Jedi Order: The Origins
by Tellemicus Sundance
Summary: It's remarkable how the smallest event can lead to the biggest changes. Now, a boy's obsession will ignite the fires of a new magical era. The fires of creativity and discovery are about to be lit and bring a new era of enlightenment. The Age of Magical Renaissance is about to begin, led by the creation of a new brotherhood of knowledge seekers and defenders. 'LIGHTSABER' REWRITE!
1. A New Weapon

(**Tellemicus's Note**) Well, as they say, third time's the charm, right? Let's hope this is the one that'll go right! As with the previous rewrite (_Resurgence of Sorcery_), this is just another version of _The Lightsaber_. **Fiori75** and I are taking what ideas worked in the original story while combining them into a new story that'll have a similar but completely different plot. Of course, since I quite liked how _Resurgence_ had started out (with Harry figuring out how to 'realistically' make his lightsaber), we'll keep most of _Resurgence_'s early stuff.

The reason for this third rewrite is quite simple. _Resurgence_ had quickly become _WAY_ too big and complex! At least, what we had planned for it. Like a massive continental magical calamity that quickly causes a complete rebuilding of human society, first within the magical world but rapidly branching out into the muggle world, with dozens of different factions each vying for their own slice of the pie or just trying to survive. And all of triggered by a powerful ritual gone wrong due to Harry's survival instinct kicking in. Like I said, it was _WAY TOO BIG_ to reasonably write, and it would've broken away completely from canon and ventured into the realms of being a pure fiction rather than fanfiction.

Anyway, without further ado, may I present…

* * *

**Jedi Order: The Origins  
**By: Tellemicus Sundance  
Co-Authored by: Fiori75  
_#01 – A New Weapon_

**June 23, 1994  
Number 4, Privet Drive, Surrey**

"—_luminous beings_ are we! Not this _crude matter!_" Yoda explained to the exhausted and forlorn Luke. "You must _feel_ the Force around you. Between you, me, the trees, the rocks, _everywhere!_ Even between the land and the ship."

Harry's expression was every bit as thoughtful as the one on Luke's face as he watched the old film play on Dudley's new telly. It was early in the day and it was already proving to be one of the best of the summer already in Harry's opinion. For today, he had the house all to himself. This was a very rare occurrence that had happened due to several factors lining themselves up _just right_ for Harry.

The first being that it was his dearly beloved cousin's birthday and his relatives had decided to spend the day in London, doing all manner of activities that Dudley deemed fun, accompanied by his gang of friends. And this directly led into the second reason of why Harry was left at home. Neither Dudley, his parents, nor his friends had wanted Harry around on this special day for their very special boy. However, because of a lie the Dursleys themselves had created and spread around several years ago, none of the neighbors were willing to look after a boy who was apparently attending the 'St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys'. Harry had found it indelibly ironic how that lie came back to bite them in the arse now. And the final nail in the coffin was that Harry's usual babysitter, Ms. Figg, had suddenly come down with a bad illness just a few days prior. So, with strict warnings to not break anything, cause any kind of 'freakish things' to happen, to not set foot outside or be seen through the windows by the various neighbors, and to not touch even a pinch of food, Harry was allowed to stay behind.

Only minutes after the car had pulled away from the driveway and disappeared around the corner, Harry had immediately gone upstairs and started rifling through his cousin's things. It wasn't because he wanted to steal anything. It wasn't that he was looking for anything in particular. Or even because he wanted just a tiny bit of vengeance for all the times that Dudley had barged in on him for any number of reasons while they were younger. No, the reason that Harry had gone into his cousin's room was because he had always had a lot of interesting toys and knickknacks which were old birthday presents that were left discarded, unused, and forgotten. Once, that giant pile of 'trash' had been stored in what was now Harry's bedroom. But with Harry's relocation and the cupboard beneath the stairs being too small, Dudley had been forced to either throw away a lot of that stuff or move it into his own room. And while Dudley had childishly tried to hold onto as much as he could _because it was __**his**_, in the end he had been forced to sort through it and only keep what actually struck his fancy. Normally, Harry would have gone digging through his own school things, work on his summer assignments, and review old material, but such things just hadn't had much appeal to him today. Plus, he'd finished his summer assignments just a few days after he'd left Hogwarts anyway.

As he'd sorted through the different comics and browsed the large bookcase that was overflowing with video cassettes instead of books, one particular film trilogy had caught his eye. He'd heard of it at primary school growing up, it was impossible to not have given how popular it was. Still, he had never been allowed to watch it since (as he now guessed) his aunt and uncle had feared that the sight of 'space magic' might give him some _ideas_ about his own freakishness.

"I would love to have been a Jedi," Harry said quietly to his dear owl friend, Hedwig, who had been nestled comfortably on his shoulder for the duration of the two films thus far. "Being able to travel, help people, use magic without a wand, fight bad guys with _laser swords!_ How fun and exciting it must be!"

He watched in horrified fascination as the truth of Luke's past and heritage was revealed to him. The battle between the fallen father and the young son had been so incredible, it really showed just how incredibly strong and talented Luke was in the Force to have been able to almost match his dark nemesis after so little training. But Harry had been horrified at how Vader had cut off the hand of his own son in a fit of rage before finally calming down. Harry had been far from surprised when Luke rejected Vader's proposal of joining forces with him to finish his Force training, kill the Emperor, and rule the galaxy. Honestly, Harry would've most assuredly done the same thing. Maybe not dropping himself down a chasm as Luke did to escape Vader, but he'd still have tried to escape in some manner.

Ejecting the cassette after it finished playing, Harry quickly switched it with the final episode of the trilogy. As the tape started rewinding to the beginning, he sat back against the side of Dudley's bed as he started thinking and daydreaming. He saw visions of himself standing tall atop his own spaceship as his friends inside it flew it slowly through the air, the winds sending his dark clothes and cloak billowing, with him wielding a blue lightsaber in one hand as he prepared to jump aboard a nearby flying battleship. It was a grand image that stuck strongly in his mind, putting a wide and yearning smile on his face.

'_I wish I could be like that in real life_.' As that thought passed through his head, a seed had been planted. He knew it, he could feel it. He wasn't sure what it was, only that it was important. It was as he was watching the scene of Luke standing over the Sarlacc Pit, about to be executed by Jabba the Hutt, and Artoo launching a lightsaber into the air towards him that the seed started to grow. But it was with the ignition of Luke's new green lightsaber and of him deflecting blaster bolts with it in the ensuing fight that caused the sprouting seed to suddenly bloom into all its glory.

"I could make a lightsaber!" he gasped out, jerking forward slightly as his eyes widened in excited realization. He was no longer truly paying as much attention to the film anymore, his mind racing faster than his Firebolt at the possibilities, needed magical requirements, and the technicalities of how he could build it.

Stopping only long enough to shut down the VCR and telly, Harry was fast to vacate Dudley's room and rush to his own, Hedwig hooting indignantly as she struggled to maintain her perch on his shoulder. Once he was back in his room, she was quick to leap off and make her way back into her open cage. Not that Harry noticed as he was already digging through his school trunk, pulling out his spellbooks, a notebook, and several pens.

He had some research to do.

* * *

**July 6, 1994  
The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley**

"Okay," Harry said quietly, speaking more to himself than the self-writing quill that was floating over a large, blank textbook behind him. "Project Hilt: Model 3.3.1 now beginning." Using his wand, he floated a specially designed and crafted metal hilt into the air in front of him. "I am now using all six unicorn hairs from the previous two attempts bounded together as the Hilt Core. The previous two attempts have caused inconsistent results, which I am starting to believe is due to the lack of concentrated power. My hope is that by weaving the hairs together, the magical power will be more dense and focused. Which should also help to reduce the…damages that most of the earlier experiments caused upon activation."

As he was speaking, a line of faintly glowing horse hairs floated up to the hilt. With a casual flick of his wand, the top portion of the hilt detached itself to reveal a hollow opening inside the hilt. Floating down inside the hilt with an air of absolute precision, the bound hairs tucked themselves into the length of the hilt. Once inside, a series of wooden supports inside the hilt gently slid out of their ready positions and took firm holds of the hair, securing the bundle tightly in place. Following this, the top portion of the hilt rapidly returned and screwed itself back into place.

"Activation of Model 3.3.1 shall begin in 3…2…1… Now." At that signal, a small button he'd installed on the hilt was depressed. This button caused a small system of levers inside the hilt to raise a pinch of fairy dust upwards and bring it into contact with the unicorn hairs. The dust and hairs were both highly reactive to one another, causing a burst of raw magic to ignite inside the hilt. This raw magic was then focused down a series of crudely-made but functional inlaid runes to gather up into the emitter at the top of the hilt. From there, the magic was projected upwards and outwards, blasting up into the air in a concentrated stream of pure light that rapidly shifted and shined in all colors of the rainbow.

"Model 3.3.1 is yet another failure," Harry stated with absolute disappointment in his voice as he gazed up at the ceiling. Flicking his wrist, the ignition button was released and the magic laser beam instantly died. As it did, it revealed a small, perfectly cut circle that had been burned into the ceiling, through the roof, and had likely shot high up into the sky.

"I wonder if this experiment accidentally clipped any satellites in orbit this time?" Harry wondered aloud as the hilt dropped limply to the floor. Shaking his head, he continued speaking his thoughts as the quill continued rapidly writing and sketching everything. "While Model 3.3.1 is another failure, it has shown a marked improvement from all previous experiments. My hope on weaving the unicorn hairs to help concentrate the power seems to have been correct. Rather than sending a spray of laser bolts in every direction upon ignition, which would be far more helpful if I could _aim_ the blasted things, the concentrated power was focused into a single beam. However, any and all attempts to shorten the beam into an actual manageable blade continue to fail. I…I am beginning to think that I need…that I need to ask for help from others."

And wasn't _that_ a bitter pill to swallow, since he wanted to make this weapon all on his own. Not that he wouldn't ask for help if he had to, the mere existence of his lightsaber trumped all. However, that didn't mean that he didn't want to do something on his own. Something that was solely his and his alone.

It had already been several weeks since the mad idea of building his own lightsaber had taken hold of him. And Harry's enthusiasm had actually begun to wane as he'd reached the Model 3 series. Sure, the Series 1 and 2 had both had their hiccups, but each failure had taught him something new. The 2's had even shown that he was roughly on the right track. However, the 3 series, while providing him a measure of what he wanted, was absolutely failing to stabilize. The continued attempts at which were actually starting to dampen his spirit worse than his initial speed bump before he'd actually been able to dive right in.

Unlike what he really wanted to do, Harry didn't jump straight into the creation process of building the lightsaber from scratch. Instead, he'd first had to sneak away from Privet Drive and visited the book store in Diagon Alley. Though that part was more perilous than tedious as the Knight Bus made travel…_interesting_. There he had partaken in the dread task that would have had Ron gasping in horror and Hermione cheering in delight. Harry had to research and read, with no one to prompt him to do so.

He'd combed Florish & Blott's, searching for any legends in the wizarding world that might've pertained to 'swords of light' or any such equivalents to lightsabers, to see if wizards have done such a thing before. He found plenty of references about enchanted blades, swords made of magical metals or through magical means, and even some swords that could shoot various types of magic or spells, but nothing quite like what he wanted. Lightsabers didn't exist, at all.

Once he was sure that he was indeed venturing into uncharted territory, Harry began his shopping spree through the Alley before renting a room in The Leaky Cauldron to be his laboratory. He rented the room because he realized that this was a nifty little loophole in the underage magic law. Namely, he was surrounded in an environment of dense magic usage with a large number of witches and wizards around him. If the Ministry of Magic could somehow locate him in all this magical miasma, he would be _very_ impressed.

His first attempt was extremely crude, and it didn't surprise him at all when it failed. Though that it failed almost immediately was certainly discouraging. His idea had been simple, he' started by basing his project off what he knew of wands. So, the first attempt (Model 1.1.1) was a simple wooden handle with a phoenix feather merged into it through a simple First Year transfiguration spell. The hilt burst into a fiery inferno and badly burned his hand once he started channeling a bit of magic into it. Once he'd gotten the fire under control and his hand healed, he started researching what must've gone wrong. Learning that while wood was generally a good conduit for magic, when said magic was trying to take the form of a laser, wood proved to be a bad conduit for what he was trying to achieve.

From then on, he started crafting his hilts from metal pipes and rods. And, of course, these had their own share of pitfalls such as the first three after that failing to do anything, the following financial costs of finding out why, then the financial problems of discreetly getting ahold of enough copper, silver, gold, and even platinum to make multiple hilts, the difficulty of figuring out how to get metal magically-conducive like its wooden counterpart, the dilemma of getting yet more books to figure out how to successfully integrate a magical core into metal. Most importantly, he came across the challenge that phoenix feathers were truthfully quite hard to get a hold of.

Which was when he'd needed to start in on the Model 2 series and having to utilize dragon heartstrings as the core instead. If not for the simple virtue that dragon heart strings could be bought in bulk or even in raw form if one was willing to actually buy a full heart, which considering that by this point Harry was half convinced that he could simply add his own name to the bookshop's storefront title, considering how much of their stock he'd ended up buying. But frugality won over compatibility.

Thus, began the Model 2 series, which had been something of an angry problem child intent on burning down The Leaky Cauldron. Much like the Model 1s, the early Model 2s had a tendency toward conflagration. However, _unlike_ the phoenix feathers overwhelming their casings with simple heat, the heartstrings posed problems all of their own.

The damn things were just so fussy.

Each heart string woven into the saber, had to, _had to_, absolutely _**had to**_ come from the same type of dragon. If for even one moment he thought about mixing in the heartstrings of a Norwegian Ridgeback into a weave of Chinese Fireball, then you were asking for the test saber to go up much like it's donor's name. Even then, you had to get the balance _just right_ even with heartstrings from the same dragon species or you'd face some new issues as well. Too many from any single dragon and the residual magic might gain a minor consciousness and rail and rage when it noticed the residual bits of 'other dragons' near it. However, if he diversified too much, then the power would fluctuate as the differences in the various dragons would play merry hell with power flow. Either option typically ended in explosions… That was if the device was feeling generous that is. If it wasn't, some of the more vicious effects included tongues and gouts of flames, outright explosions, and/or summoning up Ashwinders. The Model 2s had been just as unruly as the beasts that had donated their cores.

But Harry had figured out _so much_ from those experiments that he could easily forgive the unruly things. He even had the Model 2.7.9 still on his person. A device that was (on a good day) a breather of dragon fire and indiscriminate death towards whatever he pointed it at, or (on a bad day) might summon an unruly and angry snake made of living flames. Either way, Harry felt he'd come out ahead of whomever he felt the urge to point the device at. However, even with the success he'd found after getting the exact perfect weave of heart strings, Harry had needed to scrap the Model 2s as a dead end. Not a single one could be classified as anything less than a simple flamethrower. Deadly and powerful flamethrowers that might actually be able to spit fire endlessly, yes, but flamethrowers nonetheless.

Thus, had begun the start of his Model 3s and already the summer was marching towards its zenith.

On one hand, Harry was almost thrilled of the chance to go back to Hogwarts. There lay one of the biggest libraries in the country, and he wouldn't have to purchase a damn one of the texts himself. If there was any place that could help him solve these issues, then it would have to be there.

However, Hogwarts also came with certain restrictions. Restrictions like responsible adults and people who might be concerned if he stumbled out of a room covered in soot and smoke after a loud bang had emanated forth. People like that, while lovely to be around most of the time, would only get in the way of his dream, and may even question why he might want a laser sword in the first place. Such people might even try and stop him and get him '_help'_ in the form of sleeping potions and calmness droughts to quietly disable him while they disassembled his lab. All in the name of keeping him safe and healthy. Which, to be fair, was sort of an issue, as the desk receptionist at St Mungo's was starting to recognize him on sight the same way Madam Pomfrey did. Considering he'd needed to regrow his hand and several fingers multiple times now, this was actually a point against continuing. But then, of course, there was Snape to consider. He who would only care as much as to note that Harry was interested in something before banning it out of simple spite.

And if Snape thought Harry shouldn't do something, then clearly it was a sign to press forwards and damn the consequences! Such was the conclusion Harry had reached after Model 3.1.5 had exploded and produced a rainbow-colored fog that had made him somehow taste the color purple, see pixies riding little unicorns floating through walls, and argue with himself in the mirror for several hours. An act further complicated by the mirror occasionally weighing in for either his ID or Super Ego, depending on which had been winning at the time.

Yet despite a rather in-depth look at his own psyche that he prayed the mirror would keep quiet about, Harry was left no closer to his goal than he'd been before. And as of now, Model 3.3.1 was in need of tweaking to see if he could get it working as he wanted it.

However, before he could begin his process of tweaking the runic inlays to modulate the size of the beam, and hopefully keep it from firing off into orbit, Harry's body reminded him that he'd not actually eaten in the past few hours... if not outright _days_ while he'd been working on this latest model.

Food, Harry realized, would probably be a good thing.

With that thought in mind, Harry made the few checks he'd come to learn were necessary if he didn't want a worried populace to call the Aurors about someone attacking a national hero. A few quick scourgifies to clean off any soot that might have been clinging to him from a past explosion and a check in the mirror to confirm that he actually still had eyebrows this morning, Harry found himself sitting in a corner of The Leaky Cauldron, awaiting his shepherd's pie and going through his note-tome.

It had once been a notebook, but the constant addition of pages had quickly necessitated a change in names. Within this tome were numerous pages dedicated to every single thing he'd learned from his project. Some pages were copied faithfully from various textbooks for quick reference, and these ranged from runic arrays to Arithmetic tables. Others were in a messy scratch decipherable only by Harry, Hermione, school teachers, and doctors around the world. These detailed his schematics, every design, every runic array and pathway, every strand of silver and copper, every ounce of gold and platinum used to create the casings, and every primary arithmetic equation to compensate for etheric flow from wand core to power emitter and then flash transmute raw magic into pure energy to create a single beam of pure light. Page after page, he'd filled with diagrams and writing. Every failure catalogued, and every breakthrough and new discovery highlighted.

It was there, as Harry sat down and began to fiddle with the outer casing of Model 3.3.1, preparing to tweak the runic arrays in such a fashion to restrict the primary oddic flow from the tertiary mana roots to narrow the etheric back-flow and maybe narrow the beam for Model 3.3.1, that a familiar voice tore him from his notes and tinkering.

"Harry? Is that you?" a familiar voice asked from behind Harry. And, sure enough, upon spinning around in his seat excitedly, Harry beamed up at his most favorite Defense professor. The haggard looking man returned his smile with one of surprised relief and confusion. As he hurried forward and swept the boy up into a hesitant hug, he asked, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be at home with your relatives? How've you been?"

Harry's smile faltered a little at the mention of the Dursleys, but he shoved them out of mind as he answered, '_To bloody hell with the Dursley's. They're not here, so they can't ruin this!_' "I've been great!" Harry answered more honestly than he'd ever answered such a question about his summer than ever before, and quickly continued, "The Dursleys and I have an agreement. As long as the chores are done and so long as I get home before dark, they don't care where I am or what I do! So, I've been spending a lot of time here!"

"Really?" the man's voice was carefully neutral as he studied the nearly 14-year-old's face. "Not getting into trouble, I hope? Or spending all of your money on toys or fancy brooms, are you? That money is meant for your school supplies and textbooks. You do know that, right?"

"I know, I know!" Harry said with the casual annoyance and dismissal that all teenagers showed when faced with unwelcome facts. "But I'm not wasting it on toys." He couldn't help uttering moodily under his breath, "_Though with the number of bloody books I've bought some of it very well might __**be**__ a waste_." But then he quickly returned to his normal voice and expression as he continued, "I'm smarter than that! I've been working on a little project, and I've needed a lot of books and stuff for research to make it work!"

"Oh?" Remus said, looking genuinely interested. "What kind of project, Harry?"

At this point, Harry felt the need to look cross-eyed at his former teacher. As wonderful a man as he was, what with being a link to his parents and a competent teacher to boot, Remus Lupin was still one of the 'responsible adults' that might try and steer him away from his dream. If not because he thought it was dangerous like so many others, but because it would be dangerous to _Harry_ personally. Merlin and The Force help him if he learned about Harry's trips to St. Mungo's earlier this summer!

He was the exact sort of responsible adult that Harry should have been left with, _furry problem_ notwithstanding. And because of that, he was the exact sort that should be kept far away from his research, lest he act responsibly and confiscate the dangerous weapons project from the thirteen-year-old. That he was almost fourteen likely wouldn't help him as it was still a weapons project and he was still underage, no matter how much closer to seventeen that extra digit made him.

However, as he continued to eye Lupin up, as if considering the best way to dispose of the body and have no questions asked, the older man began to laugh uproariously. Drawing a few looks from the crowd that soon morphed into looks of understanding and even a few fond smiles.

As Harry's look turned from contemplative to confused, the bedraggled older man held his hands in front of him in helpless defense as he tried to explain through giggles, "Oh Merlin, Harry..._Hehehe_… It's just _that_ look from _her_ eyes on _his_ face… Hahaha… Oh Merlin, you have no idea how good it is to see both James and Lily alive in you, Harry." Remus explained with a laugh as he looked Harry up and down once more, this time in consideration rather than in parental worry. Even as Harry cocked an eyebrow in confusion at the very loose definition of an explanation his former professor had given.

"Right," the werewolf coughed in hound-ish fashion, that only now with the knowledge Harry had about the man's affliction did he realize why it had always reminded him of the way he'd seen Marge's dogs cough. "It's just your mother once gave me that same look when I ran into her right around the same age you are now. In almost exactly the exact same circumstances too. Let me guess, you were going to drop me in the Thames?" Remus smiled knowingly.

"…" Harry mumbled an answer, even as he turned red for being caught.

"…'Feed me to Marge's dogs'? Who is Marge?" the man asked with a laugh, having easily heard and understood what the boy mumbled. As this was happening, Harry's meal was levitated over to the table. Along with a lamb stew and pint glass of something brown and hoppy, which placed themselves in front of his former school teacher.

"…My parents ever tell you that that's not fair?" Harry glared as the man looked upon him smugly, even as he began to dig into the wonderfully cooked meal in front of him. Not quite up to Hogwarts or Mrs. Weasley's standards, or even his own to be honest. But there was a pleasant warmth that came from knowing that he didn't have to cook the meal himself which made it taste all the better. It almost made up for the smugly grinning wolf that sat before him preening in his hate.

"James said it all the time, Lily I rarely gave need to mutter angrily about me because… she… _she_ tended to back up her dark mutterings." Remus replied happily at first, before looking at Harry's sullen look and quickly comparing it to the time he'd found himself as a fully functional female for a month after he'd tried to give sympathy to Lily whilst she was in the midst of one of her spells. She had not taken his fifteen-year-old self's words of comfort too well. Harry's eyes looked frighteningly closer to hers. And he was also here working on a project, much like she had been back then.

'_Best not to tempt fate too much more, lest he be too much more like his mother than his eyes suggest_,' Remus thought to himself quickly and tried to turn _both_ their attentions back onto something that was far less likely to end in his misery. After all, he hadn't brought Padfoot to see Lily's son and if he was going to suffer, then Sirius was going to suffer. Because there was nothing quite like seeing a Black run in terror from an enraged and vengeful Evans, no matter who the participants or what the circumstances.

"So, Harry, this project? It anything like your mom's?" Lupin asked quickly as he tried to look at the messy scratches and twisted diagrams that from the reversed angle. But even with his somewhat experienced eye for deciphering such writing, it seemed to form eldritch script and non-Euclidian shapes that almost hurt the brain to look at unless he crossed his eyes and looked at them sideways.

"Uh, probably not," Harry answered hesitantly, weariness still clear in his voice and expression as he watched the man stare at his tome. "I saw something on the telly and wanted to try and see if I could create an actual real-life version of it. Not having much luck with it just yet...What did my mum try and make?"

"She said she was trying to compare potion making and the ingredients with muggle...kemsty? ...To see how similar or different they were from one another. Trying to put a 'scientific perspective to a magical art' as she'd put it. The project consumed practically all of her attention during her Fourth Year summer, but I don't think she got very far with it. She came back to Hogwarts with a very...upset look about her."

"Using Chemistry for Potions?" Harry clarified, eyes wide at the thought. Then, a slow smile started spreading across his face at the realization that his own project was actually quite a bit closer to what his mum had tried to do than he'd first thought. "Yeah, I can see how that would've gotten her interested."

"So, this project?" Remus asked lightly, smiling a disarming grin that he hadn't used much since he'd graduated. "I take it that it's a bit closer to her project than not? Must be a real challenge if you're still trying to crack this nut open."

"Heh," Harry couldn't help grunting in good humor, Remus's friendly expression and demeanor quickly wearing away his reluctance. "In more ways than one." He continued even as he turned the book around so that his former-teacher could look over his notes, with the vague hope that the former part would keep him from commenting on Harry's spelling. Never mind the long losing battle about his scripts' neatness.

As Remus began to page through Harry's notes, following the insane and myriad disorder that was Harry's mid-page reference guide to theorems and diagrams about why his spell work and rune weaving should work. Harry himself began to tuck into his meal, after he'd quietly switched the contents of Remus' beer with a passing witch's Ginger Ale while he became engrossed with the notes. No words were exchanged for several minutes as they both went about their tasks, though Harry wasn't sure if the engrossed silence that further delayed Remus from his revenge was a good thing or not.

Finally, the older man looked up and asked him a question, just as Harry suspected he would. "Blimey, Harry, _why_ didn't you take Runes and Arithmancy as your electives?"

"Hey, it wasn't really _my_ fault!" Harry answered, his voice sounding a bit whiny and cracking slightly. "Ron said that Divination would've been easy. And I really like Care for Magical Creatures!"

When he heard that, Remus rolled his eyes slightly as an annoyed sigh left him. "It figures," he uttered in helpless tone of voice. "You get your brilliance and talent from your mother, but your work ethic from your father."

"What?" Harry asked, eyes wide as a slightly frantic, hungry expression crossed his face. "My dad was...lazy in his studies? Really?"

"For the most part," Remus acknowledged, turning a wan smile on the boy. "Oh, he had his few talents where he shined, like Quidditch and Transfiguration... but he more used the latter to shine in pranking more than anything else." Remus laughed lightly, "Though he did start getting his act together about midway through our Fifth Year, when he REALLY started trying to impress Lily." Gesturing back to Harry's tome, he said, "But back to this, would you like some help or advice on it? I'd be happy to help when and if I could because, unlike you, I actually _did_ take those classes. And as a graduate, I likely know a little bit more than you do at this point." He finished boastfully as he gestured to a page. "Like here, why are you using lightning wards in these things Harry?"

The page was of a sketch from the model 2 series when he'd tried to experiment with using an alternative to linking the things to himself by covering the things in his blood for hours at a time. The Model was Harry's first and only attempt at making the lightsaber battery-powered…and the third time he'd blown off his left hand…and the first time he'd met an Ashwinder.

It was a skirt of the laws on muggle artifacts, and with the help of a modified ward schemer he'd found that converted lightning into magical energy to give the larger ward scheme and enchantments protecting the house. It would usually need to be woven into the primary rune scheme in concert with the runes used to project the wards. But in Harry's case, he'd only really needed to modify it a little to account for not needing any other runes on the copper wires he linked betwixt battery and emitter. Of course, that had resulted in fire, pain, and the sudden existence of a snake made out of said fire that had gone on to attempt to burn down The Leaky Cauldron as it tried to eat his owl.

Hedwig won, quite _decisively_ actually.

The design and idea had been scrapped once Harry had figured out that the energy conversion effect of the runes was _too_ efficient, converting all of the battery's energy at once in a blast much like his Model 1s. However, the rune scheme lived on in his later models, though in this case working in a reverse fashion to help convert his magic into a laser.

"Because electricity is nifty, and I needed it to generate the laser," Harry replied flippantly between bites of his pie, feeling moderately defensive of his designs even if they were explosive failures.

"Elect—what, Harry?" Remus replied in confusion.

His bafflement actually surprised Harry enough to cause the teen to pause in his eating and look at the man inquisitively.

"This may surprise you, Harry," Remus said in a low, but still rather contrite voice as he saw the boy's disbelieving stare. "But nearly all wizards stay as far away from muggles as they can and they have absolutely no interest in learning about anything about them. Just because I may know how to live and hide among them doesn't mean I automatically know how certain things truly work within the muggle world." Seeing Harry's continued gawk, Remus just sighed as he leaned back in the chair heavily. "I get the feeling this is going to be a long conversation before we even get to what you're playing with here… Okay, please explain to me, in little words mind you, about 'elec—_trici_—ty', what it does, and why it's important."

"Well, er, it's the stuff that makes everything work. Without it, London, no, the entire world as we know it wouldn't have become what it is. Practically everything runs off the stuff in some way or another." Harry stumbled, slowly realizing that while he might know that electricity made things work, he didn't know much more than that.

It was with a shock that he realized that his scientific knowledge, and the entire process he'd been trying to base his own project on ended very abruptly at age ten and had never really progressed past that point. At most, he knew that if he took a pair of wires and attached them to the positive and negative ends of a battery, and then if the other ends of the wire was attached to a lightbulb, you would get light. But the exact why's and how's of the process were as limited as his knowledge of wandcraft had been at the very start of the project.

"That is very interesting, Harry, but what _precisely_ does that have to do with the lightning wards?" Remus asked, his voice pulling Harry away from his sudden revelation. Momentarily halting the realization that he would need yet more books, as Harry tried once more to process the sudden display of ignorance from the normally astute older man. But with the realization that Remus hadn't even known what electricity was in the first place, his further ignorance could be explained.

"Because, Moony," Harry replied puckishly, happy to have at least some control of the situation back. "Lightning _is_ electricity. Naturally occurring, and rather powerful too. Sorta why lightning wards are standard issue if your intent for any of your construction projects to be long-term when it comes to wards."

"I knew that about the wards, Prongslet, but – " Remus snapped back grumpily.

"Don't call me that," Harry reflexively replied to the nickname, interrupting the older man before the former school teacher could build up into a true lecture.

"Become an illegal animagi before your seventeen and show me your form so you can earn your own nickname and then we'll talk. Till then, you're Prongslet…or pup, depending on the mood of the Marauder," smiled the former prankster, using the flawless and insufferable logic of annoying uncles everywhere as a reason to justify treating someone as a child, before continuing with his lecture unimpeded. "I knew lightning was powerful. Hogwarts hasn't had to have the wards personally recharged in ages because of their own wards drawing power out of any stray lightning strike to any of its towers. Merlin, Azkaban's wards actually _attract_ lighting from all nearby storms for leagues around it. But you're saying the muggles have harnessed lightning to power everything out there?" Remus asked gesturing towards the exit from the Cauldron out into London proper.

"Not… quite?" Harry half asked as he struggled to remember his history and science. "A while back over, the pond in America, there was a muggle man who figured out that lighting was electricity and since he'd already been playing with it, he came up with a something to mitigate the damage of lightning-strikes. That then laid the foundation for everything else muggles eventually figured out about electricity. But, I don't _think_ they harvest power from storms like wizards do." Harry frowned as he tried to remember the American's name. It had been someone from the colonial rebellions, someone who was also really important to the founding of the eventual country the colonies had evolved into. Thomas Lincoln? George Jefferson? Benjamin Bush, or had he been a recent president?

'_How much have I actually missed in the past three years?_' Harry actually wondered.

"So how do Muggles use Elect-trix-ity then?" Remus asked with a frown, glancing down at Harry's book, towards the sketches of Model 2.4.9. and as Harry joined him in looking at the page he started to wonder if the reason the design had failed might have had something to do not only with his limited understanding of the runes and wandlore, but of muggle science as well?

"You know, I'm not sure, but I think I'm gonna try and find out," Harry declared with a smile as a thought occurred to him. '_Star Wars and lightsabers are a __**muggle**__ creation, after all. Maybe magic alone isn't going to work. But…maybe the muggles will have a better idea to how this could work? It certainly can't hurt to look… And if what I remember about muggle libraries holds true, hopefully it'll also be cheap._'

* * *

**July 9, 1994  
Diagon Alley**

"How interesting," Harry mumbled as he shuffled his reading between the various articles and science books he had clustered around him on the table. Around him were several science books he'd borrowed from a nearby muggle library that focused their subjects on lasers, electricity, plasma, and scientific theory. But he also had numerous newsletters and journals written by both amateurs and professionals on several theories behind how a lightsaber would be able to work based off the science they knew.

What he was finding was that it was less of a 'laser sword' and more of a condensed plasma blade, contained by powerful magnetic frequencies. Which was why it could also block the blaster bolts since the magnetic fields from both would send any incoming beams bouncing off the sabers own. The Jedi were just precognitive badass enough to turn it into a deadly combat style. Or at least that was a working theory in many of the theoretical journals some of Star Wars more scientifically-minded fans had come up with.

Harry had been profoundly surprised at the difference between lasers and plasma, and how it translated to his project. A laser, which he could produce with some level of fluctuation, was simply a condensed type of light, and would react accordingly. Plasma though, Harry had come to learn that plasma was something called the 'fourth state of matter' and he still wasn't quite sure what that meant. So, to ease potential future headaches on the matter, he just decided that he'd call plasma 'liquid fire'. As he continued to dig deeper into the realms of science, Harry discovered that the creation of plasma was nigh-impossible for muggles because it required a _**very **_high degree of power and heat. And until they could somehow synthesize a metal that was strong enough to not melt at such high temperatures, as well as how to focus and contain the plasma in a blade form, the likelihood of building a lightsaber solely from science and technology was as unlikely as he was finding it to be from magic.

"But if I add in heat-resistant runes to the interior, or even just use bits of dragon bone to compensate for the raw heat." Harry said, his new floating quill once again capturing his words. "That means that the hilt won't melt or explode in my hand... However, that still leaves the problem of power. How could I, or Merlin _anyone_ really, power such a thing? I've been using my own magic to power nearly all of my models before now. But if the text is right, which I think it is, then the amount of power needed to generate so much heat and energy to even create the plasma would be nothing short of overwhelming. To say nothing of the magnets needed to contain the ruddy stuff. Merlin, I doubt even _Dumbledore_ could do such a thing!"

As he was turning his thoughts over, trying to merge what he knew of magic with technology, a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Maybe what I need to do is find or make a runic sequence that could contain and recycle the flow of energy once powered? A self-perpetuating sequence to focus and control energy. Could I even do that?" He let out a heavy sigh. "I wish I'd joined Ancient Runes class instead of Divination."

Looking over at his book, Harry took his wand and started transferring pages from the various texts and articles into the book through copying everything with magic, even if they didn't entirely pertain to the subject he was interested in. He could always go back and refine it later. Despite how much of his experiments and thoughts had already been recorded, as well as the new inserts, less than half of the large volume had even been used. Plenty of space for him to add in a few chapters on how to create, inscribe, channel, and use runes in various forms. "I suppose I have some more book shopping to do before I go back to Privet Drive."

* * *

**August 25, 1994  
Stoatshead Hill**

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big… Come on…"

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air. "Over here, Arthur! Over here, son we've got it!" Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed. Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr. Weasley said, looking back over at his group. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen, the Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Looking around at them, the boy said simply, "Hi."

Everybody said 'hi' back, except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

Seeing that everyone was gathered, Harry discreetly turned away from the group and pulled out a small pamphlet-sized booklet which he started reading from. The pamphlet was actually his research tome for his lightsaber, which he'd asked Mr. Weasley to shrink down to a more manageable size once he'd arrived at the Burrow. Swiping back to a very specific page, he started rereading what the science article on plasma once again. This little distraction of his had become a rather common occurrence, even while he was with the Weasleys, so none of them spoke up on it if they even noticed. He'd pull it out when he was either bored or there was nothing interesting happening and would quickly get lost back in his research.

"—it was an accident," Cedric's voice cut through his thoughts. "Sorry, Harry, I—what are you reading?"

Looking up, Harry flinched back in surprise at how close Cedric had gotten so quickly. He reflexively closed and pulled his tome away, trying to hide it from sight. But, seeing Cedric's questioning and somewhat amused gaze, he let out a slight sigh before he held it up slightly. "Just a little…summer project of mine."

"Must be some project," Cedric remarked, his brow quirking slightly in surprise and good humor. "You completely missed out on some Quidditch talk, and I know you love Quidditch."

"You were apologizing," Harry pointed out as he stuffed his tome back into his pocket. With a slight grin, he continued, "Maybe it was _good thing_ I missed it."

Cedric blinked before an answering grin spread across his face. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe it was a good thing."

"Harry, Cedric!" Mr. Weasley called, urgency clear in his voice. "Time's almost up! Get over here!" As the boys approached, Harry couldn't help looking questioningly at the strange scene of a large group of people gathered around and clutching a manky old boot in the growing dusk. Seeing his slight confusion, Arthur hurriedly said, "Just touch it! Quickly!"

Harry had just barely finished putting a finger on the boot when he felt as though a hook just behind his navel had suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground and he joined the group as they vanished in a blur of motion, spinning at blinding speeds towards the hidden World Cup arena.

* * *

**September 1, 1994  
Hogwarts Express, northbound**

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared. Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"_Ron!_" Hermione barked reproachfully. She pulled out her wand and muttered, "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well…making it look like he knows everything, and we don't…" Ron snarled. "_'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry_.' …Dad could've got a promotion any time…he just likes it where he is…"

"Of course he does," Hermione agreed quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron—!"

"_Him!_ Get to _me?! As if!_" Ron said, picking up one of the Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

As Ron turned to glare moodily out the window, staring off into the gathering darkness, Harry could clearly see that any further conversation was going to be strained and awkward. Sighing slightly, he stood up and dug into his trunk, pulling out a familiar tome. The sight of Harry pulling out a book wasn't an uncommon sight, but the fact that the tome was absolutely _massive_ in size and weight, that was something worth drawing his two friends' attentions.

"Blimey, Harry, what's that?" Ron asked, some of his bad mood clearing up in his slight confusion. Since he was seated next to Harry, he was able to look over his shoulder and easily see what was on the pages. Most of it was covered in scribbled text he recognized as Harry's handwriting, along with drawn sketches and inserted pictures from other books, as well as what were clearly copied pages of other textbooks and pamphlets pasted in the tome. While he could see it, he couldn't make sense of any of it from just the passing gaze he was giving it.

"Oh, ah, just some notes for a summer project I was doing at the Dursleys," Harry admitted, looking up and flushing slightly at seeing his friends' interests.

"'_Just some notes'_?!" Ron repeated, gawking with a horrified expression on his face. "That looks like something _Hermione_ would read in her spare time!"

"Ron!" Hermione said, her voice split between a reproachful bark and an embarrassed whine. Shaking her head, she turned her attention to Harry and asked, "What kind of project was it, Harry? Did you finish it?"

Harry sent Hermione a slightly crooked grin since he knew she'd probably understand what he was about to reveal, unlike Ron. "I was watching a muggle film and got inspired to try and build my own version of a weapon that was shown in the movie. I want to build my own lightsaber!"

"Wha—lightsaber? Are you serious?!" Hermione asked, her eyes widening slightly before she rolled them in exasperation. "Argh, a lightsaber? Really, Harry? I mean, _really?!_ You do know that's _impossible_, right? With either magic _or_ technology!"

"Really, Hermione, so lightning storms don't happen over Hogwarts?" Harry drawled with a smirk.

"Of course they do, Harry, but what—_**!?**_" Hermione stopped talking, just as Harry suspected she would, as her brain made a very crucial connection that all other muggleborns had missed. If magic messed with electricity, how then did lightning still behave normally near such a high concentration?

"A light…saber?" Ron repeated slowly, testing out the strange word with a contemplative look on his face. "What's a light-saber?"

"A fictional weapon in a film saga called 'Star Wars' that is very popular among the muggles," Hermione answered automatically, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. "It's basically a magic sword that can cut through anything and is used by exclusively by a group of warrior-wizards who fight to protect goodness and light."

"Not a bad comparison, Hermione," Harry said, nodding his head agreeably. "I take it you've seen the saga?"

"Yes, I have, _once_," she admitted. Then, muttering almost too quietly for either boy to hear, she said, "_Star Trek is way better, though_." Despite herself, Hermione flushed somewhat at seeing Harry's slightly disappointed and disgusted look as he gazed at her pointedly with a raised brow.

"Star what?" Ron asked, glancing between the two of them in confusion.

"Anyway, can I see what you've already got?" Hermione asked, gesturing inquiringly towards Harry's tome. Harry nodded and handed it over to her.

Taking the tome, Hermione opened it at the first page and rapidly started reading over. Soon, she was skimming over Harry's notes and theories, studying his diagrams and experiments. After several minutes, Harry slid over to sit next to her, so he could help share and explain certain thoughts. Hermione had an increasingly widening look of surprise and burgeoning respect as the two of them continued.

But as she reached the second half of his tome, where he had started gathering information on relevant muggle technologies along with his theories and notes of how magic might be able to aid in the construction, her expression changed to one of utter fascination. She had never even considered the possibility that perhaps the long-held belief of technology and magic working in tandem was an impossibility was in fact completely mistaken due to wizards' long ignorance of technology. The fact that some of Harry's first experiments with joining the two opposites showed promising results was truly mind-blowing and revolutionary for her.

Needless to say, she and Harry were locked in an intense discussion on these new ideas for the remainder of the train ride.

Meanwhile, Ron had seen the direction that the two of them were heading and had quickly lost interest. He soon turned and started glaring out the window again, quickly going back to sulking and simmering over Malfoy and being left in the dark of what was happening at Hogwarts by everyone. Heck, now even his best friends were excluding him from the discussion! The fact that they (and he) knew that he wouldn't likely understand anything of what they were talking about was pushed to the side in his mind as he continued to brood angrily at everyone.

* * *

**Saturday, September 10, 1994  
Library, Hogwarts**

It was odd, Harry thought, being happy that there was no Quidditch this year. In fact, the thought was nearly heretical, and had his old captain still been in residence, Harry was sure he'd have suddenly appeared to set him straight for the mere _thought_. Yet here he sat in the Library, note-tome open before him as numerous other books were open around him in an eclectic arrangement on a day he'd usually be out in the stadium practicing with his team. Hermione, likewise, sat across from him, her own fort of books surrounding her as she poured over facts. She had gotten rather odd about the notion that all of her books on magical and technological interactions might have been wrong.

"Here, Harry, here it says that Hogwarts is unplottable by radar. That means they _had_ to have set up a machine and tested it." Hermione nodded, as she forced a copy of Hogwarts: A History into his hands, a manic gleam in her eyes.

"And this proves…?" Harry asked as he looked up from his designs for Model 3.7.1. The last several models having reacted oddly to the additions of electrical current… At least the mirror that had recorded his psyche had 'mysteriously' died. But with Hermione insisting on proving her point, Harry was starting to see that he wasn't likely to get the work done until he could shift her focus.

"…Well, that they got it here and it didn't work?" Hermione asked as if realizing somehow that, no, it neither proved nor disproved Harry's recent assertions.

That magic was not some anti-technological force that corrupted electronics. That wizards quite simply did not know what electricity was and having failed to operate several electrical devices without power sources had concluded that it was magic keeping them from working rather than their own lack of understanding. Since then, Hermione had been trying to prove him wrong. If only for the sake of her precious books, she couldn't take them lying to her a second time. Lockhart's horrifying revelation had been scandalous in the extreme!

"Hermione," Harry said with a heavy sigh, trying to rein in his mounting irritation with her as he glanced up at her. Either he hadn't done all that good of a job or Hermione knew him too well and could see through his mask. Regardless, he saw her flush slightly in embarrassment and he knew that she knew she was about to be gently scolded by him. "How exactly would they have done that?" He asked finally.

"Well…"

"Hermione, you and I both know there aren't any power lines for leagues. So, of course the thing couldn't get any readings. Hell, even if they could, it also proves my point. Hogwarts is bigger on the inside than the outside. Of course they couldn't properly map it with radar. Either way, it doesn't disprove my theory. Either they got a working Radar machine here and got wonky readings through electricity, or they got the machine here and didn't know how to work it. You've had ten days, Hermione. You've only got four more to convince me I'm wrong." Harry finished as he brought the crux of the issue home.

"Harry, it can't be that." Hermione scowled as the topic moved back towards something she _really_ didn't want to accept.

"Then what else could it be?" Harry asked back, honestly not seeing another alternative.

"_I don't know!_" Hermione shouted, drawing even the shocked eye of Madam Pince! "It's…a misunderstanding, a conspiracy, a-a-a-anything but _that_, Harry!" She blushed as she realized _where_ she was and just what it was she was shouting.

"Really, Hermione? There's a plot to keep the magical world ignorant of technology and the advancements of science to…what? Keep them ignorant enough of modern day conveniences so they don't tear up old buildings to install air conditioners?" Harry asked with a completely straight face, fingers steepled together before him and hiding the lower half of his face…mostly so Hermione wouldn't see his stupid grin.

"That's dumb and you know it, Harry," she huffed as she looked back to her book.

"And suggesting conspiracy isn't? Hermione, you of all people should know not to assume malice where stupidity could explain everything," Harry replied as he lowered his arms, letting her take in his wide and amused face.

"Hanlan's Razor? From you, Mr. Snape-is-up-to-something?" Hermione replied bitingly.

"Hey, I was eleven, and I _was_ right that something was up, just picked the wrong teacher," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Urgh, not the point," Hermione grumbled, finally giving up the fight and burying her face in her open tome in defeat.

"Sorry, Hermione, but facts are just facts. Wizards don't know what electricity is, and because they don't, their entire approach to muggle tech has been flawed," Harry said with a shrug.

"But how?! Arthur Weasley rebuilt his car from scratch. They have the Knight Bus and the wireless. Merlin, Harry, Draco _bloody_ Malfoy, ignorant pureblood and proud of it, knows what a helicopter is well enough to brag about outrunning one. So, how—_how_ can they possibly not know what electricity is?" she growled as she shifted in her spot, just enough so one eye was visible enough to glare at him through her hair.

"I don't know. How was Hogwarts constructed?" Harry replied with a grin, knowing she'd rise to the bait.

"With magic, Harry," She replied, her one visible eye somehow silently articulating the additional question about his lack of intellect.

"Exactly, Hermione," He smirked, causing his friend to raise her face from the table, just enough to better convey her look of resigned confusion.

"…You've lost me, Harry."

"Magic built this place, sure. But what spells, how many days, which rooms were first, how was that tower added?" he said as he pointed towards her impromptu pillow. "Hogwarts: A History probably has some of those answers, but I don't need to read it to tell you that this castle was made by magic." He explained.

"…And this has what to do with Malfoy and his helicopter?" she asked in confusion.

"He doesn't need to know how it works to know what it is. Just like I don't need to know what spells were used to know magic did it." Harry shrugged.

"That sort of logic literally hurts to understand, Harry. I hope you understand this," his friend conceded.

It would be truly remarkable how in a few short weeks, he'd be looking back on these annoying arguments with a deep yearning. Things were so much simpler. But, like all good things, it would come to an end _far_ too quickly for the young Potter boy.

* * *

**Sunday, September 18, 1994  
Abandoned classroom (Harry's workshop), Third Floor, West Wing**

"Okay…ready for ignition?" Hermione asked with a heavy sigh of stress and reluctance. Though she was super excited, she was also very weary. What they, or Harry rather, were about to attempt was no doubt going to be extremely dangerous but also potentially revolutionary.

"Ready!" Harry called back, the excitement clear in his voice, expression, and posture. Despite herself, a smile crept across Hermione's face as she saw that. All too often, Harry was either depressed, scared, or angry while at Hogwarts because of the trials and conflicts that continually plagued his life. Seeing him so focused and genuinely excited like this was a rare thing to witness, even from his closest of friends. Well, outside of anything to do with Quidditch at least.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron grumbled from where he was slouched against a discarded desk in the corner of the room, his boredom obvious to all. He was lounging with his feet propped up on the desk, leaning back in the chair against the wall, with an old primary school science book in his hand that he was staring at blearily. He had been told by both Harry and Hermione to read that book, so he'd have a better understanding of what they were trying to do here. Truthfully, if Ron had read anything past the first chapter, let alone the first _page_, Hermione would've been _**very**_ surprised. "Let's just get this over with already!"

Huffing slightly in annoyance at Ron's impatience, Hermione refocused her attention on the project at hand. The pair of them were going to attempt to do several things in this test, all of which could prove critical to their overall project. Using the supplies that he'd purchased back in Diagon Alley during the summer, they had carved a small vessel out of dragonbone. Nestled within a simple hole carved out of the desk they were using, the vessel itself was little more than a tooth the size of a person's thumb which had been carefully hollowed out by Harry for the past few days and could now serve as an impromptu cup.

Dragonbone was a very hard and tough material, but also surprisingly light. It needed to be to support the weight of the creature while it stalked about on the ground or had taken flight. If Hermione had tried to classify it in muggle science terms, the closest equivalent it would've had was carbon fiber that was stronger but lighter than steel. But it was also remarkably resilient against high temperatures. Another necessity since a dragon's internal temperatures tended to bounce between 'scorching hot' when at rest and 'volcanic' when utilizing their fire breath. And that heat resistance was the singular aspect of what they were testing now.

"Okay, beginning the experiment of the Dragonbone Plasma Cup Model 1.1 in 3…2…1…" Harry said, purposely speaking loudly so that his self-writing quill could pick up his voice and add it to his ever-growing pile of research notes. With a flick of his wand, Harry levitated the chemical mixture that he and Hermione had devised less than an hour ago and floated it over the tooth. Filling the small opening in the tooth to its fullest, Harry quickly returned the mixture to its resting spot near the far wall and safely out of reach. "The plasma mixture has been inserted into the dragon tooth. Hermione will now apply the needed heat to stimulate the mixture into its plasma state."

Taking her cue, Hermione moved forward and ignited a fire under the tooth, using the same spell they used every time they attended Potions class. With a small puff of air, the fires burst to life. Hermione kept a constant flow of magic and attention dedicated to the flames, making them progressively hotter as the seconds ticked away. The temperature in the room quickly rose despite the now blue-hot flames staying at a consistent size. The dragon tooth remained unfazed by both the heat and flames alike that were scorching the undersides of it and the desk it was upon.

"Temperature's is at 600 degrees Celsius and rising" Hermione intoned as the flames moved through the channel. higher and higher the heat climbed as she fed it through the tooth. every hundred degrees she would voice the temperature until finally they had achieved their goal. "Temperature has reached 1,000 degrees Celsius. Plasma has been achieved."

"We are now at about the approximate projected temperature," Harry said, wiping the sweat from his brow, moving up alongside Hermione to dabble a wet clothe across her face as well. Since she had to keep her attention on the fire spell, she couldn't spare the focus it would take to wipe her face herself. So, Harry's help was greatly appreciated. As he was speaking, the mixture inside the tooth began to indeed start to react. Its color changed from a bland blue into a boiling red and vibrant orange, glowing eerily reminiscent of lava. Within moments after achieving this new color, the tiny amount of plasma began emitting a powerful heat of its own, easily more overwhelming than the fires that Hermione had been making.

"Success!" Harry cheered, pumping his fist lightly as Hermione smiled in triumph. "We have achieved plasma! The temperature of the plasma is staggering, however. Note: we'll need to create a high-scale heat-containment charm or ward scheme."

"The dragon tooth seems to be in good shape as well," Hermione added, panting hard now. This level of magic output was proving to be very draining for her. "The high temperatures of the plasma do not seem to be affecting the structural integrity of the dragonbone at this moment. But we will only truly understand the affects after the plasma has cooled. Speaking of which, I will now cease the fires and allow the plasma to cool down naturally. Beginning cooldown phase, now." She instantly put out the flames and let out a heavy sigh of relief as she stopped feeding her magic into the spell. "That was exhausting."

"Look on the bright side," Harry said lowly, so that his voice would've been picked up by the quill. "At least your estimate about the temperatures needed weren't accurate, and much lower than my own."

"True," she nodded in agreement as she wearily made her way into a nearby chair.

"What in _bloody hell_ was _that?!_" Ron suddenly asked loudly, causing the two researchers to turn their attention to his wide-eyed form. Much like them he was completely drenched in sweat that he was visibly wiping it down, even as Ron stared intently at their project.

"That was plasma, Ron." Hermione answered calmly.

"Plasma?! That was bloody _Fiendfyre_ is what it was. Da told me about it once: fires of hell, ain't it?" Ron replied as he continued to stare at the dragonbone construct. Even as he ignored Hermione's quite mutterings about language.

"More like the fires of the sun, actually." Harry replied as he filed away another factoid about magic away in the back of his mind.

"_The fucking_ _**sun**__?!_" Ron exclaimed in shock.

"_Yes_, Ronald, the _sun!_" Hermione agreed, her irritation at the redhead slowly growing.

"And you're gonna turn the bloody sun into a _sword,_ Harry?!" Ron continued, not seeming to notice Hermione's frustration. As he turned his astonished gaze onto his friend, his expression started changing to one of understanding and want. "How far are you from finishing it?!"

"We're not even halfway done," Harry said, closing his eyes in annoyance at the distance he had to go till he completed his dream. Frowning Harry found himself moving quickly as he then threw open the windows of the abandoned classroom they had set up in, letting in a blast of far cooler autumn air. Even with pre-applied cooling charms, all three students found themselves let out long sighs of relief as the autumn air swept over them and the heat of the room quickly began vanishing out the windows. Turning back to Ron, he continued, "We still have to examine and document the affects that the plasma had to the dragonbone. Then, we need to try increasing the amount of plasma we produce while trying to accelerate and control the warmup and cooldown phases. Then, we need to figure out which would be better, a ward scheme or a charm, to protect against the heat. Then we need to carve runes to—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Ron interrupted, rolling his eyes. "You aren't anywhere close to finishing this magic sword you've been babbling on about. I get it. But how long until you've got your sun-sword up and running?"

"Soon." Harry asked, smiling at the knowledge. "Very soon."

* * *

**Thursday, September 22, 1994  
****Hogwarts Library**

"So, if I add in this 'algiz' here," Harry muttered to himself he shuffled between six different Rune books he was cross-referencing, his hand idly marking down the rune in question as he spoke. "And then put the 'sōwilō' here…then that would mean…"

"Are you _sure_ you know what you're doing?" Hermione asked lowly, skepticism heavy in her voice. She was surrounded by her own pile of books. Unlike Harry, however, she was working on her own schoolwork rather than the lightsaber project at this moment. And her disapproval of him focusing on a 'hobby' over his schoolwork right now was quite palpable. But Harry ignored that with practiced ease.

"Yes," he answered easily, not looking up from his work. "I've been studying Ancient Runes quite a lot over the summer. Remus even gave me some pointers in it as well. I like to think I'm at least 'competent' in them now."

The mention of their previous Defense Professor giving Harry advice actually brought Hermione up short for a moment. But after gazing at him with a scrutinizing look for a long moment, she decided to let it go. After spending the past few weeks with him now, she had come to understand that Harry's obsession with this project of his was nearly all-consuming and he was unusually focused on completing it as quickly as possible. While this hyper-focused dedication to acquiring knowledge was something that she very much approved of, Hermione wished his motives were less on the stupid fantasy weapon and more on his schoolwork and figuring out his career choice.

"I wonder if I could regulate the length by putting a 'raidō' here?" Harry muttered to himself again. "And maybe if I add a 'jēra-' here, I can start the looping feature?"

Letting out a low sigh, Hermione tried to focus herself back on her own work. With Harry's dedication to his project, it was all too easy for her to get distracted and join him in his research. Because, even though she disapproved of him making such a weapon, it was still _very_ fascinating research! And Runes were among her most favorite of class subjects, right along with Arithmancy.

'_At least Ron's not here to bother us again_,' she thought in relief. Despite Ron's increasing interest in Harry's project, the redhead was disgruntled by how much of the project involved pure and boring research instead of the exciting experiments. As such, he'd taken to going off and spending time with the other Gryffindor boys of their year, though he did occasionally pop in to check up on the project. Both to make sure that the two of them were 'still alive' as he put it as well as to check on the progress of Harry's 'Sun-sword' as the redhead had taken to calling it (much to Harry's mounting annoyance: it was a _lightsaber_, dammit!).

Hermione was less than pleased that Ron merely wanted the results of Harry's project, without putting in any of the hard work and help that she had contributed. That Harry would likely still bless the Ron with a fully functional lightsaber upon his inevitable success only further vexed the bushy haired academic. Still, Ron's laziness was his loss alone. Already Hermione knew that this singular obsession of Harry's nerd-hood would ensure a place in the history books for them. She only felt angered that a third name would also likely be credited, despite his total lack of contribution.

* * *

**Saturday, September 24, 1994  
****Harry's workshop, Third Floor, West Wing**

"Ready for ignition!" Harry chirped, his face practically glowing as he shivered and nearly bounced in place in his excitement, like a child in a candy store.

"What's the trial number for this one again? Ron asked excitedly,

"Trial number is 4.2.1" Hermione answered tersely.

Hermione was actually slightly displeased by Ron's presence at this trial, but Harry had insisted. Ron might not have been academically invested in his project the way Hermione was, but Harry could feel his first friend's enamorment with the Jedi's chosen tool. Such love for the project Harry had dedicated his summer towards should be rewarded, and now that he was going to put his dream to a true test. With his latest version, Model 4.2.1, all the pieces of his research were now going to come together. If he'd succeeded, the end result would be a prototype lightsaber. Granted, because it was a prototype there would still be a lot of problems that needed fixing. This was merely a testing of the proof of concept.

Lately, Ron had been doing his very best to not pay Harry's ramblings too much attention by this point. He'd even tried to parse through Harry's note-tomb. Yet to the sixth son of Arthur Weasley, both Harry's ramblings, his eldritch handwriting, the maze of cross-referenced sources of information between various magical and science textbooks and clippings, and many diagrams of this or that doodad that needed to be studied. All of it had all just jumbled together into a nonsensical mishmash that he'd long since given up trying to understand on his own. Too much of the project relied on knowledge that Ron just simply did not know or could even comprehend.

Frankly, all Ron wanted was for Harry to finish his project, so that he could show off his newest toy to his siblings. Just like his camaraderie with Harry, having his own sun-sword was something he'd have that none of his elder brothers would. Shallow yes, but as the unremarkable sibling among seven, Ron would take what he could get. "Let's hope it works…"

"It'll work," Harry said, absolute certainty in his voice. "I know it will! Maybe not for very long, like maybe a minute or two because the magic and electrical demands are very high. But it'll work!"

"Wicked." Ron said, trying to sound hopeful and supportive, before sighing and turning his attention focused back to Harry's note-tomb. He'd already made several attempts to read through this book, but between the technical jargon copied from more technical texts and Harry's handwriting. It was infinitely more interesting to query Harry and Hermione on what they were doing.

"Right!" Harry agreed, noticing Ron's interest. Taking the lightsaber hilt into his hand carefully, Harry ran his finger over the trigger button with a tentative rub. "Okay, proceeding to activation test in 3…2…1…"

Reaching inside himself for that familiar spark of energy he'd come to realize was his magic, Harry channeled it through his hand and into his creation at the same time he pressed down on the button. Immediately, he felt his magic start draining away from him at an alarming rate. If he'd have tried to explain the sensation to a muggle, the closest he could come to was being stuck underwater and holding his breath. The longer drain lasted, the more badly he kicked for the surface in a growing need for fresh air to breathe. But in this case, rather than trying to take in life-giving air, he was subconsciously trying to hold in his magic while fighting to expel the amount needed to fuel his creation.

But that push/pull war he was experiencing was all a subconscious battle that he easily ignored in favor of staring at the pulsing blade of orange-white plasma he was holding. Thanks to the insulating runes they'd added, the overpowering heat of the plasma was all safely contained within the blade itself. However, Harry winced slightly as he felt the hilt he held begin to grow uncomfortably warm his hand. '_Clearly, I underestimated just how strong the runes needed to be_.' But that wasn't the only thing that caused him to wince.

When designing the runes for the 'self-perpetuating containment', Harry and Hermione had realized that in order to achieve their goal they needed to have the plasma move in a spiraling manner up the length of the ward scheme before reaching the looping point and circling back into the hilt. In essence, the lightsaber was just a really tightly wound spiraling of plasma that spun at high speeds as it traveled up and down the length. But clearly the containment runes still needed quite a bit of work! Rather than the straight and perfectly focused blade that he'd been expecting, the plasma was coiling and writhing in an almost uncontrolled manner. '_The containment runes must need to be even more tightly wound together than they are. There must be opening somewhere along their lengths, which is allowing the two arcs of plasma to escape and clash with one another. If that's the case, it would make sense for the blade to look like that_.' This barely controlled manner gave the blade a menacing (if admittedly rather cool) appearance.

"It works…" Ron breathed out, awe in his voice as he stared wide-eyed at what Harry held in his hand. Finally, for the first time, Ron started to fully understand just why his friend was so obsessed with this project. If for no other reason, that weapon looked _wickedly awesome!_ "_Bloody hell, __**it works**__, mate!_"

"No, that's not right," Hermione spoke up, looking critically at the blade with a deep frown. "There's something wrong with the ward scheme. It must need to be tighter."

"We can debate that later," Harry interrupted before the two could start another argument. Turning to the row of desks they'd set up earlier, he continued with, "We've still got some tests to perform."

Without waiting for a reply from his friends, he raised up the writhing blade and started swinging it. Upon each of the desks was an object: a split log they'd taken from the forest, a large rock from the lake shore, a broken piece of a car engine, and a chicken egg that was nestled underneath a magic shield. With one swing each, a series of explosive sparks went flying off the blade as Harry easily chopped the log, rock, and engine into two pieces. But when he swung at the translucent blue shield, the saber blade bounced off it harmlessly. By this point, despite having it active for only a few moments, Harry was already gasping for breath.

Turning to face Hermione, he held up the blade in a defensive stance and nodded beckoningly towards her. Already knowing her role, Hermione raised her wand, "_Expelliarmus!_" Though she only casually cast it at half-strength, it still closed the distance almost faster than Harry could react. Thankfully, he only needed to shift the blade to the side a little to intercept the magic bolt. It was actually quite similar to blocking a thrown baseball Harry would reflect later. The impact wasn't all that great, just enough to strain the hilt slightly in his grip. And he was smiling broadly, if exhaustedly, as he watched the spell bounce away harmlessly to the side without pulling his weapon from his hands.

"Test complete," Harry said, eyes drooping heavily as he sagged on his feet. He had just enough time to thumb the button again, retracting the blade back into the hilt, before he collapsed in a dead heap on the floor, Ron and Hermione crying out to him in the background as his world turned black.

* * *

(**Tellemicus' Note**) Just for the record, this isn't where I wanted to end the chapter. However, I felt that I'd neglected this story long enough and it would be better to post what I had rather than leave you guys hanging. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. **Fiori** and I worked pretty hard to try and keep things reasonably close to canon while also trying to show a more realistic setting for what drives Harry towards becoming what all know he will be.

As you can see, we decided to add in quite a few more scenes involving researching and experimentation for the various prototypes. And for those of you who are wondering about what the last prototype looked like, just picture Kylo Ren's saber (without the crossguard). I know I left out quite a few other potential research scenes and showing him acquiring new muggle knowledge, like Harry learning electronics and building new circuit boards and whatnot for controlling the lightsaber. But while I didn't mention them, don't think that I forgot about them!

Anyway, I think this'll have to do for the time being. I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter out just yet, but it shouldn't be too long. There's a bit of character interactions that are taking place that are giving me fits. But once we get through those, the rest of the chapter should come along fairly easily...I hope.


	2. Room of Mysteries

**.**

**Jedi Order: The Origins  
**By: Tellemicus Sundance  
Co-Authored by: Fiori75  
_#02 –Room of Mysteries_

**Friday, November 4, 1994**

If Harry had thought matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of him being champion, the following day after the Goblet of Fire spat out his name showed him how mistaken he was. As it wasn't the weekend, he just couldn't avoid the rest of the school. He had to go to his lessons—and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought he had entered himself for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they didn't seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory. A feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, thanks in large part to Quidditch. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, whom Harry had normally got on very well with, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray. Though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grasp and smacked him hard in the face. Ron wasn't talking to Harry either. Hermione sat between them, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him, but then she was Head of Hufflepuff House.

He could understand the Hufflepuffs' attitude, even if he didn't like it. They had their own champion to support. He expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins. He was highly unpopular there and always had been, because he had helped Gryffindor so often, both at Quidditch and the Inter-House Championship. But he had hoped that the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric. He was wrong, of course. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the goblet into accepting his name.

Then there was the fact that Cedric looked the part of a champion so much more than he did. Exceptionally handsome, with his straight nose, dark hair, and gray eyes, it was hard to say who was receiving more admiration these days: Cedric or Viktor Krum. Harry actually saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krum's autograph begging Cedric to sign their school bags one lunchtime!

But it was Double Potions that was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. On an average day, Potions was a horrible experience. But these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry as much as possible for living and breathing, let alone being a school champion. It was about the most unpleasant thing Harry could imagine. He had already struggled through four days' worth of having Hermione sitting next to him intoning '_ignore them, ignore them, ignore them_' under her breath and he couldn't see why this class should be any better.

When he and Hermione arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment, Harry thought they were S.P.E.W. badges, then he saw they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

SUPPORT **CEDRIC DIGGORY**  
THE **REAL** HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

"Like them, Potter?" asked Malfoy loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do—look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one which glowed green.

_**POTTER STINKS!**_

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message _POTTER STINKS_ was shining brightly all-around Harry. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.

"Oh, _very_ funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone. "really _witty_."

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.

"Want one, Granger?" asked Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see. Don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now—do it, if you've got the guts—"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then at exactly the same time both acted.

"_Furnunculus!_" "_Densaugeo!_"

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles. Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hand to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up. Hermione whimpered in panic, clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!" Ron hurried forward to see what was wrong with her. Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth, already larger than average, were now growing at an alarming rate. She was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin. Panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" asked a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations, but Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir—"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"—and he hit Goyle—Look!"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron snapped. "_Look!_"

Ron forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth. She was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubling up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper, her eyes filling with tears as she turned on her heel and ran. Ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time. Lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor. For in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.

"Let's see…" he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

As the class of red and green colored students filed into the classroom, Harry didn't budge from his spot as he glared at the Professor's retreating back. Harry's ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces.

After spending the majority of the summer working in peace on his lightsaber project, researching magic he didn't yet comprehend, finding out the finer points of technology he hadn't already known, experimenting with and building his models by combining the two, and having a damn-good amount of fun doing so. After having experienced such a high in a workshop that was eerily similar to a potion's lab, to now have plummeted so far down into the gutter, losing both his friends' supports and with the strong likelihood of being targeted by both the Slytherins and Snape. He could almost _literally_ see it happening in his mind's eye. If he went into that class, _today and now_…_**bad things**_ were going to happen. It was just… He just… He couldn't… He wouldn't…

After only a moment of relative indecision as he watched the class funnel inside, Harry abruptly turned on his own heel and followed after Hermione, leaving the dungeon. As he departed, he could literally feel Snape's glaring but triumphant eyes following and boring into his back until after he'd vanished around the corner and up the stairs. He just knew that Snape was going to make him pay this, but at this moment in time, he just didn't care!

Harry's original intention was to follow after Hermione to the hospital wing to support her during her recovery, then escort her to Gryffindor common room where they could get an early start on their homework. However, he had barely taken three steps out of the stairwell when he realized that neither Hermione nor Pomfrey would want his presence there, especially during class hours. So, with no real destination in mind and hotly burning temper just under the surface, he started stalking the lower halls of the castle, looking for an adequate place to brood in peace.

His sulking wandering was halted as he reached a very familiar doorway. Normally, he'd have done his utmost to utterly ignore this particular doorway. There were so many bad memories connected to this stretch of hallway and what lie behind that doorway in particular. But, as he thought on what he knew of it, Harry realized that this doorway (or, more specifically, the one that lie hidden behind it) was exactly what he needed right now. For inside the Chamber of Secrets, he was guaranteed to have the privacy he sought so badly right now.

* * *

**Earlier…**

The look on Snape's face as he closed the door behind him was that of unpleasant triumph, his eyes somehow seeming to glitter in delight. He practically strutted over to his desk, grabbing a bit of parchment and a quill as he reached it. "Well, it would appear that Mr. Potter has decided that he's exempt from attending class. That'll be 50 points from Gryffindor and a detention tonight for Potter's failure to attend." Predictably, this caused a rouse of anger from the Gryffindors and muted cheers from the Slytherins.

Once finished making a note of the deduction, Snape turned to face the class. "Antidotes. You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom to test one—"

A knock on the dungeon door interrupted Snape before he could even finish his first lecture. With only a slight wave of his wand, the door burst open and there stood the familiar form of Colin Creevey. The Gryffindor was beaming happily, apparently not taking in the sullen and friction-laden atmosphere of the class as he entered and moved over to Snape's desk and the man behind it.

"Yes?" Snape asked curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs," Colin said, the source of his good nature now becoming clear to all. Everyone knew of Colin's strange obsession and hero-worship of the Potter boy after all.

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, who smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter is not presently here," the man stated bluntly. "And he will have an hour of class and detention to follow that. He will be free afterwards."

Colin went pink. "Sir—Sir, Mr. Bagman wants him. All the Champions have got to go. I think they want to take photographs…"

"As I'd stated, he's no longer here," Snape bit out sharply. But then he glanced contemplatively over the class. "He's no doubt followed after Granger like a lost puppy. Parkinson, so glad you could volunteer to go and retrieve the boy," the Slytherin head sneered, adding just one more insult to the ratty little mudblood.

Though Pansy did wish she had actually been given the choice to say no. Still, the chance to see Granger helpless would be at least somewhat worth it…that and missing class with Longbottom when he wasn't being watched by one of the golden trio. Draco could deal with the caustic effects of his _fun_ by himself today.

So, with only a marginal amount of haste, Pansy left the classroom, ascending from the potential hell of clumsy fools and trending onwards to the mixed pleasure of gloating over Granger whilst still technically running an errand. That it was an errand that technically helped _Potter_ of all people was just something she'd have to live with. Much as she had gotten used to the various odors that emanated from Draco's lackeys, her Head of House's inability to actually teach a dangerous subject, or her mother's constant urging to be better.

She'd just have to gloat at Granger's misfortune extra-hard to counter out her own, it was only fair. Nodding in affirmation to herself, Pansy was just about to continue on her journey when she spotted something that did not fit the picture she'd formed in her head. Harry Potter was wandering around on the first floor.

Potter wasn't heading up the stairs, much as she would have kept doing had she not seen him. He wasn't attending to his mudblood like some sort of lost puppy as he had every other time she got injured. Nor did he look like the sullen brooder Draco had always painted him as. He instead looked thoughtful as he started drifting about the first floor almost aimlessly. His right hand idly playing with some kind of silver tube he pulled from his pocket.

Strangest of all though was the sudden stop right outside of the haunted girl's lavatory.

Frowning in confusion and slight anger, Pansy hurried forward, wanting to trap the boy inside. This way she could probably get the wizarding idol to explain just why he suddenly felt the urge to seek out the company of an annoying ghost. Oh yes, she was _very_ interested in the boy's unexpected detour. But just as she reached and partially opened the doorway, she heard something that she hadn't heard for almost two years, a sharp, mysterious, but also rather threatening hissing noise that seemed to echo through the bathroom. House of the Serpent she might be in, but the entire wizarding world had been long taught to fear the voices of those who spoke the tongue of snakes.

Immediately following this terror-inducing noise, a brilliant white light flared to life, casting the entire room into stark hues of blinding whites and deep blacks. At the same time, a grinding sound of moving stone and a rattling and screeching of rusted metal gears filled the air. After only a moment of this noise and light, everything died down and Pansy could see inside once again. She stared in shocked surprise at seeing Potter striding towards a large, man-sized hole in the wall that had obviously just opened. Without a hint of hesitation, the boy stepped into the hole and dropped out of sight.

Opening the door and hurrying inside, Pansy rushed to the hole and stared down into the darkness underneath. Faintly, she could make out the noise of the boy sliding ever lower into the tunnel that was revealed. "What—What is all this, Potter?!"

Frowning, Pansy leaned back and looked towards the exit with an expression of hard contemplation. She was weighing her options of rushing back to the dungeons to inform her Head of House of these strange events, or instead acting like a Gryffindor to sate her mounting curiosity and jumping in blindly after him. After several more glances between the two choices she had, Pansy finally let out a heavy sigh of resignation. In another moment, down went Pansy after him. Never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. She glimpsed more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as the one she was in. It twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and she knew that she was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons were. And then, just as she had begun to worry about what happen when she hit the ground, the pipe leveled out. She shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.

Quickly climbing to her feet, Pansy could see the fading shine of a Lumos spell as Harry was already moving away. Drawing her wand but not igniting her own spell, Pansy quickly but carefully followed after him, trying to remain on the outermost edges of the light that Potter had made. After a few minutes of walking, they came to a stop because of a large cave-in that was blocking most of the tunnel ahead. _Most_ of it, because Pansy could see a small area near the top that was just large for a small kid to slip through.

Waving his wand in an almost annoyed manner with a mumbled spell, Pansy watched as Potter cast a large-scale _Reparo_ charm. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as she watched enormous and tiny chunks of fallen rock alike rapidly ascend back up into the ceiling, large cracks closing, and the slight sag of the ceiling rising back up into a proper arch form.

'_I didn't think Potter had __**this much**__ power already!_' If you listened to Malfoy, and indeed most Slytherins' opinions, then Potter was little better than a Squib in terms of raw power, finesse, and potential. But Pansy had never fully ascribed to that belief. The boy was at best an average wizard, courtesy of his lazy work ethic and Weasley's influence, but that had been all she'd assumed he was. But now, she realized it was something else entirely. '_Either Potter has been hiding the depths of his power or he's never been pushed to his limit before!_'

Potter had started moving forward again during her contemplation and was nearly out of eyesight when she came back to herself. This turned out to be a good thing for Pansy since he was just far enough away to not hear or notice the crunching noises of the bones shards as she tried and failed to move daintily over them without making a sound. As she was doing this, Pansy glimpsed something in the receding light from ahead. It was huge but still rather crushed from the cave-in earlier, lying right across the tunnel. It took a few moments, but Pansy soon realized it was peeled snakeskin.

"Oh shit, that's a _big_ snake," she couldn't help uttering quietly in awe.

And it was just as that quiet statement was spoken that Pansy froze, her eyes widening in dawning suspicion. Was she…? Could Potter really have…? Was it possible that she was…in or near the _Chamber of Secrets?!_

Pansy had known that the Chamber was at the center of the events during her mutual Second Year with Potter, that something had happened there when the youngest Weasel had been taken, and it ended with Lockhart tragically gone mad. But the Chamber had supposedly closed itself off due to Harry's 'heroic efforts.' The working theory amongst the Slytherins was that the now-crazed former hero had used Potter's gift of Parseltongue to gain entry and had fought the Beast therein. The other option would be that Potter himself had somehow beaten the Beast…at age twelve.

When the running theory was that he was a talentless near-Squib? Nobody in Pansy's House had even considered it, not when someone with far more _actual_ experience was also present. Though, with his recent display, combined with the size of the small gap that had been present in the now fixed rubble? The implication was frightening to an extreme, because it quite frankly did not fit the picture she had formed of Potter in her head. That he was also apparently traipsing around in the sanctum of Slytherin, was a known Parselmouth, and had casually displayed raw power she'd have passed out trying to match? The very real possibility of such a thing was staggering and painted a slightly worrying picture.

Could he possibly also possess the blood of Slytherin?

* * *

**Chamber of Secrets**

'_I guess I shouldn't be surprised that nothing's changed much since then_,' Harry thought as he gazed upon the chamber he'd entered a few moments earlier. He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

Lit up by the _Lumos_ he still had active, Harry glanced around himself as he walked slowly down the center of the chamber. Even though it was less than two years ago, he could clearly remember what he felt last time he'd walked down this path. The fear of running into the basilisk, the worry for Ginny's wellbeing, the sense of exposure brought on the hollow eyes of the serpent statues. But soon enough, he'd passed by those and found something else to focus on, namely the rotting and rank corpse of the basilisk from where it still lay in front of the massive carved statue face of Salazar Slytherin. Harry was unsurprised to see that the entrance to which the basilisk came from was still wide open, since neither he nor Tom Riddle had bothered to try and close it. This caused what would've otherwise been a severe expression on the statue's face to seem like it was comically gawking as if horror or disbelief at having to witness its most dangerous weapon be killed and left to rot right in front of it.

Moving forward up to the edge of the flooded moat that separated the statue from the rest of the chamber, Harry couldn't help but begin to grow angry as he stared at the statue. He couldn't help but think of the legacy that this man had left. More than just Voldemort, the killer of his family, but a systemic and enduring hatred that allowed for so much more. Soon, he found himself glaring up at the face angrily. "This is all _your_ fault, you know. _All of it_ started with you. The prejudice, the Purebloods, the wars, Voldemort. All of this is _entirely __**your fault**_."

There was so much more Harry wanted to say. He wanted to rave and cuss about the man for championing such a vile way of thinking. He wanted to curse and defame the actions this distinguished figure had promoted. But for all that he wanted to do, he held himself back. After all, what he really wanted was to do all those to the _real_ Salazar Slytherin, not some statue.

"You know you're supposed to have been something great?" Harry half mumbled to himself, and half to the statue as his gaze fell to the waters at his feet. "The four of you could have laid it all out perfectly, but no. You just had to hate. Wish you'd have met a little green man in a swamp to teach _you_ how not to be a wanker. Maybe then your House would be tolerable."

Harry might've hated the modern day Slytherins (or _most_ of them) passionately, but he also understood that they hadn't started out that way. He knew that once, long ago, they had been just another school house with wide-eyed and eager students wanting to learn the secrets and the mysteries behind the majesty and awe of magic. He knew that the darkness that enshrouds the House was only a comparatively recent development and that Slytherin himself wasn't _technically_ to blame for the way the wizarding world and his House had turned out. But even so, it was hard to separate his anger from all the misery and pain that the House of the Snakes had, are, and will put him through and to not want to blame the man who'd created the House in the first place.

In the corner of his eye, he could faintly see the glowing eyes of some more jeweled serpents carved into the walls of the chamber, seemingly watching him, judging him. The faint ripples that were floating through the waters made those same serpents somewhat appear like they were alive and dancing. It wasn't intentional on his part, but the sight of dancing snakes reflexively triggered Harry's Parseltongue as he spoke up next.

"_Magic is a wondrous thing_," Harry mumbled as he stared at the green-tinted waters at his feet. "_But I guess it can't solve everything wrong with the world_."

As if in reply, the eyes of those serpents flashed faintly for a split second before dying out again. It was so faint and sudden that Harry almost thought he'd imagined it. Before Harry to could turn away, a sudden golden glow emanated from the depths of the waters in front of him.

"What the?" Harry gasped in surprised as he took a step back slightly, eyes wide and his wand at the ready. But after a few moments, he stepped forward again and peered down into the watery depths, gazing down at the strange glow he could see underneath. "That looks like torchlight. Is there another cave down there?" He could faintly see what looked like a tunnel down at the bottom of the moat, some four meters below, which was clearly where the flickering lights were coming from. "What's going on down there?"

It was a second's time of deliberation before Harry promptly decided it was worth the effort and potential danger to go exploring. Pulling off his cloak and discarding his red Gryffindor shirt and slacks, with only his undershirt, boxers, and socks, he gripped his wand in one hand and his glasses in the other as he dove into the cold water without a moment's hesitation.

The water was cold, frigid even. And while he'd expected it to be, that didn't stop him from nearly losing his breath once he'd dived in. The cold was biting and all-encompassing, digging into his skin like thousands of needles, quickly sapping him of his body heat and trying to smother him in its icy grip. But he ignored it as best he could, kicking valiantly against the waters as he swept his arms through the water, pulling himself ever deeper into its clutches. Sadly, he realized too late that his initial assumption about the depth of the water was quite inaccurate. It must've been closer to ten meters deep, rather than the mere four he'd first thought.

Swimming with his hands occupied by his glasses and wand were awkward, but he still kept going. Due to not wearing his glasses, everything he could see was a dark, dreary, fuzzy haze with the only light he could see being the golden glow of the tunnel below him. Before, on the surface above, the glow was merely a curiosity that poked at his natural inquisitive nature with the promise of a mystery to be solved. But now it was like an irresistible siren's call, the flickering glow that of lit torches and fire which were beckoning him forward with the promise of fire and warmth.

It took him longer than he'd have liked, but after several long minutes of pulling himself deeper towards the promised warmth desperately, he finally drew level with the tunnel. Despite his lungs burning with the need for fresh air, Harry grasped the edge of the tunnel wall and pulled himself inside it. Much to his surprise and relief, he could feel the water around him quickly start warming up as he drew closer to the source of the light. The tunnel must've been about two meters long and ended quite abruptly. Yet at the roof of the tunnel, he could see the wavering light and distortions of a surface. '_A cave! AIR!_' Frantically, he pushed off the lakebed and shot upwards towards the surface, breaking through it in a spectacular splash and with a loud gasp.

Panting heavily, Harry quickly slipped his glasses onto his face and looked around the cave he'd entered. It was an entrance hall, if he had to guess. The cave was about three meters tall, three meters wide, with the walls all roughly carved out as though dug by chisels and pickaxes. Lining the walls on opposite sides were neat rows of large candles that floated in midair in much the same fashion of those of Great Hall, lighting up the cave with the same warm glow that had drawn his attention in the first place. The floor was just as roughly hewn, but with an obvious path of neatly placed and polished cobblestones that led down the center of the chamber towards a simplistic looking door as black as obsidian with a copper-colored latch. The air in the cave was breathable, with a peculiar taste of mint in it. And, most importantly to Harry, it was _**warm**_.

Climbing out of the water, Harry collapsed limply upon the stony floor, breathing hard as he tried to relax and let the heat of the cave soothe his cold and wet body. It took several long minutes, but he eventually got enough of his strength back to take his wand and cast a basic drying spell over himself. It was a simple spell he'd learned back in his second year, but it was oh-so-useful in times like this. A much drier, but still somewhat cold Harry pushed himself up to his feet and made his way over to the door.

As he drew to about two paces away from grasping the door latch, he stopped and stared. The reason for this was because glowing green words had suddenly appeared upon the obsidian door as he'd drawn nearer. The script... it _looked_ sort of like English, but also not. Some words looked to be spelled phonetically and others just scribbled in something that resembled letters, and then there was just the gibberish. Harry could only stare in incomprehension at the strange words and even stranger shaped letters.

"What kind of language is that?" He felt that he should recognize it, half-forgotten memories from primary flirted with the more advanced warding books he couldn't make sense of even when his brain wasn't just recovering from the lack of oxygen.

It was the knowledge that the strange writing looked vaguely like a ward that set his mind whirling. Half remembered talks with Bill Weasley about ward schemes meshed with his summer lessons. Examining the door carefully he saw that while there were more words around the door, it seemed to lack anything beyond the magic necessary to conjure the floating words.

Perhaps it was a greeting?

After several moments of confused staring, Harry shook his head and shrugged. Ignoring the words, he continued forward and grabbed the latch. The latch moved with no resistance and the door slid open with little more than a creaking groan of long-unused hinges. The room beyond the door was pitch black, but that didn't stop him from stepping into it. Igniting his wand as he closed the door behind him, Harry started looking around at the mysterious chamber he'd found. He quickly forgot about the strange words on the door since, in his mind, it probably wasn't important anyway.

The room he found himself in was very different from the rest of the Chamber of Secrets. In fact, it reminded him of the brief moments he'd spent in the Slytherin common room, except homier. It felt almost like stepping into his own common room in fact, save that the colors were in dark green and vibrant silver. Yet there was the odd splash of red in places, such as the large and inviting sofa set near an unlit hearth, the occasional shade of blue such as an old fur-lined cloak left hanging alone upon a stand as if it had a place of honor, and finally there was the large yellow rug that depicted a large and happy cartoonish badger cuddling up to a snake that somehow managed to convey extreme grumpiness on its reptilian face.

It was a distinctive clash with Harry's memory of the posh and decorative room he and Ron had tried to question Malfoy in. The Slytherin Common Room had been so decorative it almost didn't seem like it would be a good idea to truly relax there for fear of damaging something. Yet this small lounge with three adjoining hallways looked quite lived in and welcoming. As if this wasn't just some private place for Salazar and Salazar alone. Something completely at odds with the written history.

"Okay, something strange is going on here," he mumbled.

After a moment of staring, he turned towards the hearth and cast an Incendio. The long-dry wood that still sat in the old hearth caught easily and soon filled the room with its warm golden glow. A glow that was made quite a bit brighter thanks to the whitewash that was plastered upon the entirety of the walls and ceiling surfaces. That done, Harry extinguished his Lumos spell and decided to explore the new area more fully. But before he moved, he cast a quick magic-revealing charm and waved his wand about in a simple searching pattern, seeking for any hidden curses or traps that might have been laid. In doing so, he almost was knocked off his feet by what he detected.

The hallway to his right was easily the most benign of the three. The charm revealed that it was filled with a lot of spells he'd once detected inside the Hogwarts library. Spells made to keep the books arranged, just as Madam Pince layered upon her own domain to keep order within her library. '_That must be Slytherin's secret – eh, __**personal**__ library, I guess_.' However, as he swept his revealing charm to the side, that is when he almost was put down on his ass.

The central hallway's door had magic flowing through it that almost _blinded_ Harry. Power the likes he'd never felt flowed through him and sparked Harry's long dormant survival instinct. Above everything he had ever learned over his brief 14 years upon Gaia, Harry knew that approaching the central hallway would mean his certain doom. Magic, both his own and ancient, informed him that the only thing that laid behind that sturdy door was certain death. For both his body and his immortal soul. Such was the magics that protected the central corridor that Harry almost would've forgotten it even existed as he turned his attention away from it, if not for the sheer existential dread that the doorway exuded.

Finally, there was the corridor to his left. This was what truly drew Harry's senses. More than the library or death corridor, Harry felt the call of magics he couldn't understand down the left-hand path. All his spell could really reveal to him was that whatever Salazar Slytherin had kept within the room was beyond Harry's abilities with the spell to understand. Because if the feedback he'd received was correct, then the very heart of the world rested before him along the left-handed path. Yet, despite the complexities, Harry felt assured that nothing was actually protecting the door before him. Mysteries of great magic hidden deep underground and protected only by its secrecy and a door…and a now very dead thousand-year-old murder snake who was already protecting a near-mythical secret chamber that already allowed only select few entry. That door was probably the single-most protected door in existence, just by that nature alone.

Shaking off the memories of plunging his arm into the King of Serpents mouth on the vague hope his pointed metal stick would kill it before it could swallow him whole, Harry moved towards the left-hand corridor. Ignoring the slight beeping noise that had started to permeate through the Common Room. Grasping the door latch carefully, even respectfully, he slowly opened the old door. As the door slowly cracked open, bright light burst out from around the seams, filling the corridor with its blinding radiance. Though somewhat surprised, Harry continued to slowly open the door, letting his eyes adjust to the new brightness as best they could in the process. The light that shown from within wasn't just a simple, unified whiteness but more of a shifting kaleidoscope of colors, changing from reds, blues, greens, yellows, and a large variety of other colors. The display was truly as dazzling as it was blinding.

By the time he'd opened the door fully, Harry's eyes had somewhat adjusted to the radiance and he was able to peer inside carefully. What he saw brought him up short, standing in the threshold as he gawked. What lay beyond the door was another large cavern that seemed every bit as large as the Chamber of Secrets above him, if not larger in fact. And protruding from the rocky surface of the many large boulders, stalactites and stalagmites, the cavern walls, ceiling, and floor, and even the carefully carved steps that led down into the chamber proper, was a vast array of many thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of glowing crystals. It was easily the single-most beautiful sight Harry had or would ever see in his life. But that wasn't the only thing that brought him up short. Even with his extremely limited knowledge and training, Harry could literally feel the pulsing that each of the crystals were giving. It was like ultrasonic air waves that sent vibrations through air and caused tingles and shivers to run up his skin. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that these powerful, nearly _visible_ waves of raw power was pure magic.

"Wh-Wh-What are these things?!" Harry gasped out, staring in shock as he continued to gawk.

Gathering his courage, Harry carefully stepped into the new cavern, looking around in wonder and curiosity. He didn't even make it quarter of the way down the steps before he stopped and squatted down to more closely examine a nearby cluster of crystals that were protruding from a large chunk of granite. This particular cluster were packed with blue, green, and yellow crystals. Reaching forward, he made to touch one of them but flinched back when an unexpectedly strong pulse of magic flared out from the crystal he'd been about to touch. The pulse wasn't anything harmful, but it did give him a strange sensation, a feeling of…hesitation? Of not belonging. That this crystal wasn't…meant for him and that…to take it would be somehow…inappropriate. Like taking another wizard's wand without consent from either the wizard or the wand.

Frowning slightly, Harry reached forward again but more slowly, cautiously. When his hand drew closer, the same crystal pulsed again, and the feeling returned. Curiosity overruling his sense of propriety, Harry ignored the feeling and gently laid his finger upon the crystal. A shiver run up his arm as he felt the crystal literally shudder beneath his finger for a split second. But then, after just a moment of contact, the crystal settled down and a sense of…acceptance washed over him. Gently, respectfully, grasping the crystal and extracting it from its resting place with minimal effort, Harry raised it to his face to stare at it. This particular crystal was a blue one, no bigger than the size of his pinkie's fingernail, yet it was shining as brightly as a blue neon sign at night. And the aura of power it was exuding was quite potent. He could literally feel it pulsing across his skin, traveling through body as he stared down at it. The strength of the aura wasn't nearly as overwhelmingly impressive as the massive collection around him, but it was still a remarkable amount all on its own.

The crystal felt right in his hands now, like it belonged there. In fact, it was a feeling that he remembered having felt the first time he'd grasped his wand back in Olivander's, but somehow more so. Where his wand felt almost like a small flame bursting to life as it connected with him, the crystal was like the sun, filling him with warmth and energy. Magic flowed through the gem, both his own and what felt like the magic of the earth itself.

It was with a sudden start that Harry realized what he was holding. This tiny blue gem was pure, crystallized magic! He was literally holding solid energy. The concept was mildly dizzying, even more so because it meant that every single crystal in the chamber with him must also be of the same basic property as the one he held now.

"What are you?" Harry breathed as he stared at the blue gem.

He had barely even finished speaking his thought aloud before he was stuffing the crystal into his sock. After all, it would be far easier to carry it around in there and less awkward than putting it into his boxers, especially since his undershirt had no pockets. Grabbing his wand, he stood back up and forced himself to turn away and head back up the steps. Once the door to the crystal cave had been sealed shut behind him, Harry found himself swamped by the comparative darkness of the room and had to wait for a long few moments as he eyes once again readjusted.

"Okay, what else is in here?" Harry asked himself, unable to hide his now bubbling excitement at the possibility of what other treasures he may find next.

Hurrying back into the Hidden Common Room, he continued forward as he headed for what he assumed was Slytherin's personal library. Opening this door with far less hesitation, he entered the dark room and quickly sent another Incendio burst into the hearth and lit the wood aflame. As the room lit up, he gazed around it with interest. Lining the walls of the room were a series of large and beautifully ornate bookcases that were filled with varying amounts of books, scrolls, and parchment. In the far corner, a large desk sat and had upon its surface a massive roll of parchment and some of the more archaic tools to cut and measure it. In the center of the room, there stood a simple pedestal upon which a closed book wrapped in simple dark leather and binding. A minor curiosity to Harry that this book would have a place of supposed importance in this chamber, but he soon turned his attention away as he continued to study the rest of the room. In doing so, he spotted another door that was partially hidden in the corner, just barely visible around one of the bookcases.

Turning, he approached the nearest bookcase and looked it over carefully. It didn't seem to have any magical protections surrounding it, no ward schemes that he could see, and no curses to prevent unwanted removal. Maybe the curses had faded over time? Then again, this was clearly Slytherin's personal library, in a secret chamber hidden within an already heavily protected cavern far from the rest of the school. And Harry was getting a strong impression that this chamber had not been visited for centuries, at the earliest. Would extra magical protections really be needed?

"Better safe than sorry," he said, raising his wand and casting a couple of magic-revealing charms, searching for any hint of magic anywhere on the bookcase and elsewhere in the chamber. After a few moments, he did come up with a few positive reactions, but all of them were faded to the point of nonexistence and none of them were malicious in nature. From what he could assume, it seemed the fading magic in the room was the natural result of time wheedling away at it.

Reaching up, he grabbed one of the books. This book, like all of the others, was hidebound with the only hint of a decoration on the cover being the title that had been written in golden ink. However, the letters were again written in that odd runic-like style that he couldn't read. Flipping open the book, he hummed out in disappointment that even the pages were written in that style as well. Closing the book, he stuffed it back where he found it before grabbing a random one from another shelf. Again, it was more of that runic writing. Trying a third book, a loud groan of growing disappointment escaped him at what he saw inside.

Replacing the books, he headed over to another bookcase. After just a few moments, he groaned again before stuffing the books back and heading to another. In less than five minutes, Harry had verified that all of the books in here were indecipherable to him. There was nothing he could read! "Dammit! _Dammit! DAMMIT!_"

As he was glaring around the room, he paused when he noticed that one book that was resting on the pedestal. What was so special about _this book_ that it wasn't with the others? Moving forward, he reached to pick it up but stopped, pausing to stare at the cover of the book. More specifically, he was staring at the names written under the title. Yes, the title and the author names were all written in the same runic gibberish as the rest, but these names were so iconic that he could easily recognize them despite the slightly different and more stylized letters used.

"_A book written by __**each**__ of the __**Founders**__?!_" Harry yelled in shocked awe, grasping the book and holding it up almost reverently as he gazed at it. "Oooohhhh, I'm _**DEFINITELY**_ taking this one! …Plus, if I left this book here, Hermione would kill me. Literally kill me. And feed my body to Hagrid's spiders."

Just to be sure, he carefully opened the book and started leafing through the pages. Sure enough, it was written in the same gibberish as the other books in the library. But this time he wasn't angry or annoyed, just excited and determined to now figure out a way to translate it when he got back upstairs. '_Maybe Hermione will be able to?_' Putting that thought aside and forcing himself to not remember the reason he came down here to begin with, Harry gently set the book back where it had been. He could pick it up later, when he was ready to leave.

Moving over to the door, he opened it to find yet another room of darkness. Once finding and igniting the hearth inside this room as well, Harry paused as he stared at what he found inside. This room was clearly a workshop of some kind. There were various tables and benches filled a lot of different knickknacks. He recognized some of them easily enough. On one table was what looked like an old muggle farm plow. Another table had what seemed to be a pile of discarded stones, some cracked and broken or with scorched surfaces, but all with carved runes upon their surfaces. Another table had a large pile of diagrams and reaction tables surrounding a basic potion set. He even saw what looked like a partially built suit of chainmail armor and plates resting upon a mannequin. On the table nearest the armor set was a large cluster of medieval weaponry, ranging from broad swords, spearheads, daggers, warhammers and axes, and even a couple of arrowheads. Sadly, all of the metal on the weapons had become rusted to the point of uselessness as the iron aged and decayed.

However, one weapon stood out from among the pile simply because it was the only weapon that still gleamed with the razor-sharp perfection of being freshly forged, sharpened, and polished. Moving forward towards this peculiar weapon, Harry gently grasped the short sword and examined it. "Wow, this looks like the same metal that Gryffindor's sword is made of." Granted, he had no idea exactly what the Sword of Gryffindor was made of, though it was clearly a magic alloy of some kind. But this sword shone with the same perfection and shine, fitting into his grasp as though it had been made specifically for him, just like the other one. "Did Gryffindor and Slytherin work together to forge the Sword? If so, then why didn't Slytherin ever use this one? Was it just a prototype like my lightsaber and the Sword was the final product?"

Setting the sword down, Harry moved over to the table that had many diagrams and charts upon. As was the case with the library, everything was written in that runic form. _Unlike_ the library, he was able to somewhat decipher the likely meanings of the manuscripts thanks to the illustrations. He saw images he'd seen numerous times before in his schoolwork, clearly the precursors to the modern textbooks for Potions, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and even several charts dealing with Transfiguration and Herbology. But the diagram that really caught his attention was the one that was hidden towards the bottom of the pile, this one bearing a perfect image of the gleaming sword behind him. Picking up the diagram, he stared at it carefully, searchingly. Sadly, after just a few moments, he conceded defeat to being unable to read it. But rather than put it back, he took the parchment and tucked it under his arm as he moved on. This was definitely another thing he wanted to have translated, if only to figure out how the Founder(s) had managed to get the steel to stand the test of time and keep it from rusting.

But, for now, there were still other treasures to search for!

* * *

**Great Hall, Hogwarts**

Lunch had finally rolled around and the usual flood of students rushing for the Great Hall and the promised meal occurred. Animated conversation swept into the large chamber as the din of hundreds of voices filled it with idle topics of classwork, favorite sports and players, speculation on the Tournament, and any peculiar drama their partners had shared with them about the happenings of the outside world. All in all, it was a rather relaxed and comfortable setting not at all dissimilar to many others prior.

One of the rare exceptions to the almost universally relaxed atmosphere of the Great Hall was seated towards the far end of the Hufflepuff table with the rest of his year-mates. Cedric Diggory was picking at his food with quite disinterest while he was gazing around the great hall with a searching and somewhat concerned eye. And as he searched, he could not help the small frown on his face from growing. The object of his search was the noticeably-absent Fourth Champion, yet everywhere he looked he saw _someone_ wearing one of the damn badges. Finally, after scanning every spare inch if his own table, did he spare one more check. It only took a passing glance over at the Gryffindor table to see that the famous Boy-Who-Lived wasn't present, much to the clear confusion of his Housemates.

"Something wrong, Cedric?" a familiar lilting voice asked from beside him as a soft body slid gracefully onto the bench beside him.

Glancing over at his girlfriend with a reflexive small but happy grin, he hummed in greeting to her. But at seeing her searching stare, he sighed, "Perhaps, Cho. Did you know that there was a special ceremony that happened a little while ago for the Champions?" Seeing her surprised and somewhat confused blink, he added, "It was just a simple test that Mr. Ollivander did to make sure all the Champions' wands were working properly. Then, we had pictures taken for the newspaper and spoke briefly with Mrs. Skeeter."

"So, what happened that has you worried?" Cho asked, nodding her head in understanding.

"Harry didn't show up."

"What? Why?" Cho asked, clearly surprised.

"We don't know," Cedric admitted. "I suppose he probably didn't know at first. Professor Dumbledore was able to catch a passing student and send them to collect Harry, but he never showed. Apparently, there was a fight of some kind down in the dungeons and one of Harry's friends had to go to the infirmary. Professor Snape thought that Harry went with them, but Madam Pomfrey says that Harry didn't show up there either. Dumbledore, Crouch, and Bagman all went searching for him. But after an hour, they gave up and we did the ceremony without him."

"Huh, that is weird," Cho said, confusion coloring her voice as her face adopted a worried expression. "You don't think something bad happened to him, do you? I mean, with how everyone in the school has been treating him and…well…" Her glance around the Hufflepuff table didn't go unnoticed to Cedric. He easily understood what she was implying.

Grimacing, he was about to retort that of course none of his house would do such a thing. But he stopped himself short, it wasn't even two years ago that everyone had become convinced that Harry's moral character was of a questionable sort, malicious even. They'd thought he'd attacked one of their own, and a lot of following talks had been of retaliation, talks that even Cedric himself had participated in on the side of getting even. It wasn't until Granger had been petrified that he'd even begun to question his usurpation, and then the boy had helped Lockhart on his Final Quest. It had taken Harry fainting in the presence of _Dementors_, something no dark wizard would do, for Cedric finally to believe that Harry _couldn't_ be a dark wizard in the making.

He'd tried to make amends, to get to know the boy he'd lost Quidditch to twice and beaten only on a technicality once. He'd found him oddly bookish, yet inventive. His tome already resembled Cho's own collection of runic arrays, and he wasn't even taking the class! He'd just picked it up as a hobby over the summer, and already he was catching up to students a year _ahead_ of him. It was with that thought that Cedric had once again found himself doubting Harry, using the very knowledge the younger man had shared to him in trust, to sour his judgment.

If _he_ could do that, what might others in his House be thinking?

"I'm not sure," Cedric finally admitted, his eyes taking in his own house once more. "I don't want to think someone from my House could have done something to him…"

"But the Chamber?" She asked knowingly, remembering well the opinions within her own House on _that_ matter.

"Yeah… People were against him then, and they're against him now. I think Skeeter might even try and spin his absence into something, the way her eyes lit up when she realized he wasn't coming." She'd smiled as well, throughout the whole interview. Her quill had also never stopped moving, even when no one was talking.

"That does not sound good. And you say he's been gone how long?" she asked her voice curious yet leading.

"Since morning classes?" he half asked, knowing his girlfriend had spotted something he'd missed. Following her eyes, he saw that she was searching out the other side of the Hall. Particularly, in a place he'd never look for Harry at. That way lay the Snakes.

"Well, so has Parkinson," Cho replied calmly. Doing so drew his eyes to the fact that, _yes_, one of Malfoy's chief sycophants was in fact gone and had been for quite a bit. Also missing from the table were a handful of Slytherin's upper years, several like Slytherin's chasers were not known for their conduct on (or off) the field. Put together, it didn't paint a very good picture.

"You don't think they might have…?" He asked, his voice slightly hoarse as he became a little worried about the younger boy.

"We should go check," Cho nodded decisively. Before he'd even had a chance to change or doubt the course, he was rising as she pulled his arm up with her and forced him with more than words into action. It was something that endeared her to him in ways beyond her natural beauty.

Smiling slightly, he knew there was only one answer he could give. "Lets."

* * *

The conversation at the head table was much more stunted and subdued. Most of the Professors that sat there had been long time acquaintances or friends for many years. They'd spoken and interacted many times and had many different conversations over the years. As such, with so many casual topics already covered, they mostly sat in comfortable silence as they tried to enjoy their meals while keeping a casual eye out for any potential trouble that might suddenly erupt among their students.

But that was only true for most of the faculty. A certain Headmaster and his Potions Master were having a hissed conversation of considerable importance.

"—and you're sure that's what happened?" Dumbledore was asking, gazing quite pointedly over at Snape.

"Why would I lie about that?" Snape snapped back somewhat irritably. He had every right to be annoyed. Dumbledore had been grilling him for details about what had happened with the missing Boy-Who-Lived during the confrontation between him and young Mr. Malfoy. "He left to escort Granger, I'm sure of it."

"…Very well," Dumbledore wasn't happy about the lack of information but at least he knew what had caused the initial mystery to spring up.

Turning back to his largely untouched plate of food, the old wizard started slowly eating his lunch as he continued contemplating the problem at hand. He barely even tasted his steak and potato stew, which also had a chunk of buttered warm rye bread on the side, and a goblet of watered-down wine. Though alcohol was bad for thinking rationally, it was exactly what he needed to calm his nerves. '_If this is going to be the theme of the Tournament, this is looking to set a very bad precedent_.'

When Fudge had approached him three years ago with his plans to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, Dumbledore had immediately gone off to research everything available about the history and past of the tournament. Research that included many bizarre and outdated ceremonies, rituals, rites, and tasks that the past selected Champions had to accomplish. Needless to say, he quickly understood just why the tournament had been abandoned hundreds of years ago. Most of those rituals and tasks were dangerous for even fully grown and experienced wizards! Even _he_, in his youth and prime, would've had some trouble with some of them! So, after reviewing and researching everything available, Dumbledore realized that the original tournament had been less about the students competing and winning glory, and more about the various gathered nations trying to forge or cripple alliances with one another. It was all just one giant game of politics barely hidden under the auspices of an international tournament, like the Quidditch World Cup but far less fun.

Once he'd understood this, Dumbledore had approached Fudge and managed to talk him into trimming down the tournament into just three Tasks and two ceremonies, cutting out all of the rest because they were either too dangerous or were just added in for flair and potential bureaucratic and political maneuverings. Plus, all of the extra free time would give the Champions the chance to study for the classes, which is why the original tournament rules said they were exempted from school. The three Tasks were the absolute minimum required by the original tournament rules that the Champions needed to complete. The Yule Ball 'ceremony' had been just a standard political 'meet-and-greet' among Purebloods and their heirs getting to know each other and those of the other nations, disguised as winter's solstice dance. Despite the political origins, Dumbledore decided to keep this ceremony because he felt it brought fun back into the tournament.

But perhaps the single most important ceremony of the entire tournament was the Weighing of the Wands. In old times, this portion of the tournament was the only one that truly focused solely on the champions. Even if the Goblet of Fire had selected them for the tournament, if they had been found to be 'unworthy' of competing, the Champion would be declared inept and a new one would be selected (though most didn't know that since it rarely happened). The ceremony was a very simple affair of ensuring that their wands were in acceptable working order and to ensure that no one had or would tamper with them for the duration of the tournament. However, there had always been a subtle undertone to this ceremony that seemed to echo throughout the tournament in question. If one champion was more favored than another, if there was a rivalry or romantic drama between the champions and thus their nations. It didn't matter, whatever happened in or during the ceremony tended to hint towards what one could expect from the tournament as a whole.

So, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and the controversial Fourth Champion, not showing up was a _very big deal_!

Dumbledore was always a bit conflicted with his feelings and desires towards the boy. He strongly suspected that the boy's destiny was still deeply entwined with that of Voldemort's, who he still believed was still alive out there, somehow. Two years ago, he had found his first real clue in the form of a cursed diary as to how that might still be the case, from the boy himself no less! Having watched the boy slowly grow up within these halls over the past three years, Dumbledore was sure that the boy had what it would take to finish Voldemort off when the man finally rose once more.

Although the boy seemed to have inherited his father's lackadaisical motivation, only doing the barest minimum to pass his classes, save those that actually interested him. Though, Dumbledore suspected that was partially due to Mr. Weasley's influence. However, with Remus' report of his sudden interest in Runes, Harry was finally showing some signs of his mother's intellect. He was apparently shooting through researching and mastering them at speeds that were frankly astonishing. Sure, the boy was attempting the impossible by combining Muggle technologies with magic, but he was hardly the first and most assuredly wouldn't be the last. Still, the old wizard couldn't help smiling every time the thought crossed his mind. This new hobby of his just further illustrated to Dumbledore just how much of his mother's son Harry truly was. Dumbledore had high hopes and great expectations for the boy if Voldemort didn't rise within the next decade or so.

He was so lost in thought that Dumbledore failed to notice that his bowl was empty of stew until he brought his spoon back to his mouth and didn't taste anything. Blinking and coming back to reality, the old man forcefully pushed his thoughts aside. After using his buttered bread to scrape up what little streaks of stew remained in his bowl and downing what was left of his wine, Dumbledore stood and departed from the table. He had a lost Champion to find, preferably before he managed to get himself tangled up in even more trouble than he was already going to be in.

* * *

**Chamber of Secrets**

It had been the better part of twenty minutes now. As Harry delved into the secrets he had found, another had been wondering just what sort of trouble she had stepped into. Each and every step of the journey had left Pansy with growing questions and a deep-seated unease. The boy's display in what was apparently the Chambers entrance hall was bad enough. But the corpse of the Ancient Serpent King? Pansy would be forever thankful that she could blame her current state on the brief swim. After all, no one would ever know that she'd briefly lost control of her bladder, save herself and the dead basilisk.

Yet instead of doing the intelligent thing, which would have been to immediately turn around upon realizing that, _yes_, the snake was dead, and, _no_, Potter had not set it as a guard. She'd instead acted like a stupid lion and followed Potter into the true sanctum of the greatest of the Hogwarts Founders. Personally, she blamed her Ravenclaw of a father for that. Ambition combined with curiosity tended to resemble courage. At least that was the story she was sticking with if anyone asked. Which is how she now found herself standing before another locked door after emerging from the pool of water for a brief swim.

Clad in only her undershirt, skirt, and socks, Pansy stared at the glowing runes on the door before her. Well, that was slightly misleading. They weren't runes per say, but they certainly might as well be since most modern wizards and witches couldn't read them anymore. A thousand years of 'culture exchange' between Great Britain and the rest of Europe, as well as William's conquest had resulted in the English language and writing changing into something completely different. The writing Pansy saw now was that of Old English. She knew it because not only did she have a thirst for knowledge but reading and writing Old English was a family tradition from her mother's side. One last flickering ember of resistance against the invading hordes who've been trying to snuff out all traces of their original culture.

The message she was reading on the door was rather ominous, but also the implications it suggested were threatening to tear apart what little of her world view remained. In simple terms, the message was a warning from Salazar Slytherin (the _Founder_ Salazar Slytherin, she was _quite_ sure!) to the 'lion-brained buffoon' to remember to dry and clean himself off before entering again or next time there would be 'painful consequences'. The idea that not only did Godric Gryffindor, the hated enemy of her House, know about this secret room within a secret chamber, but was also apparently a frequent enough visitor that Salazar would leave a reprimanding message to clean up after himself was so ridiculous. That it implied that the two of them had been on _friendly_ terms. It went against everything of what she'd been taught and believed all her life!

But…how was that possible?! It was a known and accepted fact for generations that the two of them had been bitter rivals after Hogwarts' completion. An example of this was when they started taking students based of their differing views on who should be allowed to learn magic. And then there was the history of the Chamber of Secrets itself. By its very nature, the Chamber was supposed to have been a _secret_ from the other Founders. But, admittedly, a secret that Slytherin had only shared with his own House, which is how it trickled out and eventually became known to the wizarding populace at large. That Slytherin had built the Chamber as means of hiding and storing a 'horror within' for his future heir to eventually come and purge the school of all those unworthy of learning magic. Clearly, that horror had been the basilisk she'd seen earlier, probably killed by Lockhart two years ago, because even with the mounting evidence she refused to believe that a twelve-year-old lout of a half-blood could have killed an Ancient Serpent King. Anyway, by the known facts of the Chamber, there is no way that Slytherin should've needed to do anything so trivial as leaving the equivalent of a sticky note behind for one of the other Founders like this. That implies that they must've also known about it and could even access it! But if that was case, then the known history was…wrong?

And just how many other things about Hogwarts, the Founders, and other such things had the history books gotten so badly wrong over the years as well?!

As Pansy was busy processing all this, she just continued to stare blankly at the door and the Old English message upon it. Her brain was wracking itself, trying to piece together some semblance of understanding and to restore or repair her shattering world view. She was so overwhelmed with all this new information and the insinuations it carried, Pansy didn't realize she'd been standing at the entrance of the hall for the better part of half an hour, wand hanging limply in her hand. It wasn't until the latch unclamped and the door swung open that Pansy started to snap back into reality. By the time she did, she found herself staring into the equally surprised but much more greatly alarmed eyes of the boy who'd been the source of her dilemma.

"Potter…" she said, her voice soft but neutral. She just stared at him as he recoiled in surprise, eyes widened in alarm, fumbling for his wand while simultaneously trying to hide a large leather-wrapped tome behind his back.

* * *

**Tellemicus's Note**: Damn, after so long, I **_FINALLY_** have been able to somewhat move past that Burj Khalifa-sized roadblock I've had in my head while trying to write the ending portion of this chapter. But now that I'm finally past it, we can move on with the storyline and get to the fun parts. You know what I'm talking about: learning to use the 'Force', completing and practicing with his lightsaber, and just making waves in the world simply by being himself. But it looks like he won't be alone in making them this time!

**Fiori75's AN**: Look, as a Trekkie, I will give you Jedi a bone. Star Trek Would not exist without Toy-boy Lucas. It's just ever since Revenge of the Jedi, when the wookies helped the rebelion take dowe the second Death-Star, thing have been going downhill... oh wait, that's right. That is not actually how the third movie went down, he sold out then and everything has been shit since. Unlike Star Trek, where Gene Roddenberry kept a fuck-mothering Death Grip on what was supposed to happen even after he died! Lucas sold out and we got the fucking ewoks. Hence why Star Trek will always be the better series. We. Did. Not. Sell. Out. unlike you jedi who now belong to a god damn rat... i'm sorry mouse.

Star Trek= Freedom! (**TS: I call bullshit!** **xp Star Wars is unquestionably the best ever!**)

And I really do mean that. I have a promotional button that my dad got at a science-fiction-convention. It reads Revenge of the Jedi. Star wars started to die way back even before Lucas gave us Jar Jar Binks.


	3. An Unexpected Predicament

**.**

**Jedi Order: The Origins  
**By: Tellemicus Sundance  
Co-Authored by: Fiori75  
_#03 –An Unexpected Predicament_

**Friday, November 4, 1994  
Room of Mysteries**

"Potter…" Pansy said, her voice soft but neutral. She just stared at him as he recoiled in surprise, eyes widened in alarm, fumbling for his wand while simultaneously trying to hide a large leather-wrapped tome behind his back.

(a few minutes earlier)

Harry was confused, which considering everything he kept finding in this hidden-chamber-within-a-hidden-chamber was not too surprising. If it wasn't the discovery of solid raw magic, it was the annoyingly familiar words spread across the pages of the books he could not read, that and the discovery of just how much the founders shared with one another. The biggest had been discovering Slytherin's sleeping quarters, which had been _odd_. There was a plush badger for a pillow and ravens decorating the bedsheets!

This time however the source of his confusion came from a strange orb of light that had appeared and seen fit to smack him in the back of his head. The fact that it was also emitting a rapid-paced beeping noise that correlated to a pulsing blue light also made the thing nearly impossible to ignore. That it also would randomly try and attack him when he tried to wander away or ignored it too long did not help matters because it had started following him incessantly.

"What do you want!?" Harry finally screamed at the thing, half tempted already to try and blast it…again. The damnable thing was as nimble as a snitch.

Once more the orb bodily smacked into his chest and retreated, staggering Harry slightly and nearly making him drop the Founders' collaboration. However, this time Harry noticed that it always retreated from its attacks on his person in the same direction. Always towards the common area. Narrowing his eyes Harry took a single step towards the common room. The orb moved in front of him, and actually stopped beeping quite as insistently.

"You want me to follow you?" Harry muttered to himself as he took another step after the infernal thing. The light, seemingly pleased, continued its beeping at a lesser intensity and did not try and attack him again. Harry debated the wisdom of following a strange blue light through this Room of Mysteries. Sadly, for the forces of common sense, Harry had made far more questionable decisions in the past.

Shrugging, he followed the light, right back into the common room and towards the entrance. There the light merged with the door, and actually began to open the thing for him. Once more, Harry was confused at the oddities of this hidden workshop. But any thoughts of that nature quickly fled his mind as he beheld the shivering girl standing by the edge of the water at the opposite end of the entrance hall.

"Potter…" Parkinson said, her voice sounding rather cross to him. She just stared at him as he recoiled in surprise, eyes widened in alarm, fumbling for his wand while simultaneously trying to hide his prize behind his back.

"Parkinson! How the devil did you get down here?!" Harry fired back hotly, very deliberately ignoring the way her soaked undershirt was clinging to her blooming figure in a very…appealing manner. '_The bloody hell is wrong with you, brain?! This is Parkinson! I mean, yes, she looks good in a wet shirt and her hips are rather nice, and, my, what lovely legs she has… Ohhh, bugger_.' It was as Harry's hormones conspired to play merry hell with him that he found his attention hyper-focused upon a certain pin attached to her front of her skirt. If nothing else, the reminder that she absolutely hated him for the mere crime of existing helped him focus on the important things.

"How did I get down here? I followed you, you fool," she stated bluntly, practically rolling her eyes at the obvious simplicity. But she kept her attention locked upon him, clearly searching for something. "How did _you_ get down here! This is _Slytherin's_ Chamber of Secrets!" She fired back just as hotly, somehow missing the once-over Harry had given her figure.

This also further helped dispel the cloud of hormones by firmly reminding Harry that he did not like her as a person…even if she _did_ have nice legs. With such thoughts in mind, he found it easy to fall back into the mulish behavior he saved for the likes of Malfoy and Snape. "In case you forgot, I'm a Parselmouth. How do you think _I_ got down here?" He fired back.

"Yes, yes, the half-breed lion with the snake's tongue. How could _anyone_ forget _that_ embarrassment?" She huffed as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "But, in case you've forgotten, we are in a Salazar Slytherin's _hidden chamber!_ The bastion of pureblood supremacy! How in Merlin's name did _you_ find it at all? Let alone this… _This…?!_" she trailed off as she gestured at the door to the hidden workshop.

"I asked a ghost," Harry replied shortly.

"That…That…" The sheer simplicity and likelihood of the possibility actually working brought Pansy up short as her overworked brain sought to understand. It took a few moments, but when the connection was made, she blinked in surprised realization.

Of course! It all made so much more sense! Ghosts were the castle's longest residing residents. Some of them had existed within its walls for centuries! Far, far, _far_ longer than any student, professor, or headmaster ever had! Their knowledge of the castle's secrets must be extensive and extremely thorough! But most wizards and witches avoided or ignored them because either the specters of death that they represented spooked them away or most of the ghost's personalities were abrasive, melancholic, depressing, and/or dismissive towards the living. They were also usually too busy wallowing in their untimely deaths, feeling sorry for themselves or spiteful towards those that weren't respectful towards them and their plight. As such, getting any type of meaningful information out of them was usually very difficult at the best of times, let alone even having a simple conversation with them at all. The sheer patience and charisma needed for such a feat was…considerable.

With those thoughts running through her mind, Pansy could only manage to utter out, "That…makes sense, actually."

"So, why are you down here?" Harry asked pointedly, glaring at her. "Why were you even following me to begin with?! I would've thought that trying to get a 'dunderheaded lion' like myself in even more trouble wouldn't have been worth it if it meant getting your own House in trouble. _Especially_ considering you're also missing your Head of House's own class!"

"Uh…" Given all of the discoveries and revelations she's just endured for the past hour or so, Pansy could be forgiven for having forgotten what her original purpose had been when she started following after the Gryffindor golden boy. But she did still manage to recollect herself rather quickly now that she'd been reminded of it. "Th-There was some kind of ceremony that the Champions needed to participate in. You missed the summons when you didn't attend Professor Snape's class, so he sent me to find you. Although, by now, I'd imagine that you missed the ceremony completely."

Blinking in surprise, Harry's face lit slightly in a light flush of embarrassment. "Oh…ah…oh well…" he mumbled as he looked everywhere but at the pretty girl. "I-I never wanted to participate in the tournament anyway."

"That's utter shite. Who would give up eternal fame and glory?" Pansy couldn't help uttering. Normally, she would've laughed in his face at what she would've interpreted as a blatant lie. But considering where they were and what mysteries that might still be found, she found she was curious as to what his response would be.

"Oh yeah," Harry drawled back in a dry tone. "The three-time defeater of Voldemort needs _more fame._ Yay."

"Three times?" Pansy asked, confused.

"That's not important right now," Harry quickly said.

Pansy quietly wondered what was important given that statement. She even asked. "What could be more important?"

"I don't know!" Harry snapped back. "Maybe getting you out of here for starters?"

"I'm a _Slytherin_. I have more right to be here than a halfblood son of a blood traitor!" Pansy shot back.

"And yet this halfblood can speak to snakes," Harry countered. "So, really, who does have more right to be here I wonder?"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "I can't read minds. What are you thinking I'm saying?"

Pansy thought for a good moment. This was a lot more modest than the Gryffindor golden boy should've been. Where was the bragging? Where was the arrogance? He was acting decidedly like a member of Slytherin House. This annoyed Pansy considerably because he was doing a better job of it than most of her Slytherin classmates.

Before Pansy could think of a retort, Harry spoke up again. "Look, can we just get back to the main chamber, _get dressed_, get back to Hogwarts proper, and have this conversation again _never_?"

It was at this moment that Pansy comprehended the state of her present undress and the presence of a like-aged male. She just knew that her mother would've been haranguing her about marriage contracts and unsuitable suitors if she'd ever seen her daughter in such a situation. Face flushing rapidly as the implications set in, Pansy quickly tried to preserve some level of modesty by crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the Gryffindor with all the righteous feminine fury of a lady who realized she'd just given someone a free peep show.

"Not – a – word, Potter!" she growled out.

Keeping his gaze locked to the ground as he moved around her, Harry rushed to the water's edge. But just before he dove in, he turned slightly and casually but quickly uttered out, "Your legs aren't that nice anyway."

Pansy didn't have a chance to scream indignantly at him because he'd already descended headfirst into the water. In her fury, she _almost_ forgot about the book he was holding. With how distracted he'd made her, along with several other things, she'd almost missed it as he took his dive. Really, he hadn't even been hiding it that hard. But he had gotten her so worked up about so many things that it'd nearly slipped her notice.

Just how much of a Slytherin was this lion and how come no one had ever noticed?!

* * *

**Second Floor Hallway, Hogwarts**

Cho and Cedric were walking down the empty hallway, slightly hurried. They didn't have much time left in their shared free period after lunch. So far, they had narrowed Harry's path to this part of the castle. According to portraits past this part, Harry had not passed through here yet. They had already checked all nearby classrooms and closets. All that was left was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which they were hesitant to enter.

"Are we _really_ sure he's here?" Cedric asked, hesitantly.

"What other secluded part of this castle is there?" Cho asked in a slightly challenging voice.

"Well, it's a girls' lavatory," Cedric pointed out, feeling somewhat awkward from having to do so.

"It's also a _haunted_ lavatory," Cho countered. "It's perfect for when you want to be alone."

"Or to set up an ambush," he added, starting to get his reluctance.

"Yes, that too," Cho acknowledged. "But –"

"For the _last time_, Pansy!" a boy's voice called out in annoyance. "_You can't look at the book!_"

"Why not?!" a girl's voice replied, sounding petulant. "You've already gotten a free show! Why shouldn't I be allowed to look at the book?"

Cho and Cedric could only stare dumbfounded at the couple exiting the bathroom. Immediately, they were aware of several things. One, the boy was Harry Potter and the girl was Pansy Parkinson. Two, their clothes were both completely disheveled. Three, they looked like they'd built up quite a sweat. Four, they were leaving a secluded part of the castle that few rarely entered. When it was all added together…

Cho was the first to speak. "Oh Merlin! _They're dating!_" Unfortunately, Cho didn't deal well with shock. It tended to be quite _loud_ when she voiced her thoughts in such a state.

Immediately, the duo froze in place as they turned their attentions towards the older couple. In perfect unison, both of them shouted at Cho, "_WE'RE NOT DATING!_" The awkward flush on both their faces did _nothing_ to help their argument.

"Well, this is a lot better than I thought it'd be," Cedric stated, a slow grin spreading across his face. "But, really, Harry, you shouldn't skimp out on an important ceremony to snog your girlfriend –"

"She's _not_ my _girlfriend!"_ Harry loudly interjected.

"– or whatever you were doing in there," Cedric finished.

"_We did **nothing!**_**"** Pansy shrieked.

"Then what was that about Harry 'getting a show'?" Cho asked.

"I – ah – I…well, that – I…" Pansy was well and truly tongue-tied.

"And I understand that you wanted to sneak away with your boyfriend, but you both still have class," Cho reprimanded lightly. "Which you've both missed!"

"W-W-W-W-We're not _dating!_" Pansy stuttered out loudly.

Cho and Cedric both gave a series of short nods that failed to utterly show any sign of agreement. Deciding to try and be the mature one, Cedric stepped forward and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder in a consoling manner. "Look, I understand why you're trying to keep this quiet –" "We're _not_ dating!" "But you should at least admit how much you care about the girl, if only to her."

"_**BUT SHE HATES ME!**_" Harry cried out, gesticulating wildly towards Pansy, completely forgetting that he was carrying something in his hands.

Cho, who'd been moving to start consoling Pansy, felt her eyes drawn to the sight of a large tome in the Boy-Who-Lived's hands. He was moving it too quickly for her to get a look at its title, but she could easily tell that it was quite old. Harry was too busy ranting at Cedric to notice her attention while still flailing his arms in a frantic manner as he desperately tried to convey his point. It might've worked too if Pansy wasn't also trying to do the same thing. But Cho's attention wasn't actually on what they were saying anymore, but more focused on the book at this point. Finally, when Harry stopped his gesticulating, he jabbed one finger into Cedric's chest while holding to book straight towards Pansy as he loudly declared, "_Besides, SHE'S DATING __**MALFOY!**_"

Pansy would've shouted something as well, but the book was finally in plain sight and she was able to get a look at the title. Cho got a look too. But where Pansy went silent with shock, Cho found herself once again loudly voicing her thoughts. "YOU HAVE A BOOK WRITTEN BY THE _FOUNDERS?!_"

Cedric was grinning good-naturedly over at his young competitor. He was about to try to reassure Harry that all he needed to get the girl was to really put himself out there. "Look, you just need to be hones—wait, what?" Immediately following the shouting, his attention was diverted to something a bit more important than giving dating advice to his underclassmen.

"Errr…" was all Harry could utter in response as Cho made a quick grab for the book. Thankfully, Harry's brain really didn't need to be active for his reflexes to kick in. Unfortunately for him, it was Seeker reflexes against Seeker reflexes with no broom to make an advantage. Also, he and Cho weren't the _only_ Seekers in the hallway.

Cedric, seeing his girlfriend lunge, did his best to make sure she didn't accost and rob another student. Sometimes, being a Prefect sucked. It was the Prefect's job to stop any students from fighting, even if that included his girlfriend. Yet as the three House Seekers began the quiet game of keep away, they all failed to notice the last person in the hallway as she made her own grab for the book. In fact, it was only Harry's death grip on the book that she didn't manage to snatch it away from him. Though, she did pull it directly towards her face, consequentially, pulling Harry flush against her. In any other situation, she'd have begun yelling and hexing, but right now she was more focused on the book.

There, in Old English script, was the names of the Founders. "You got this from the secret Chamber!"

"Errr…"

"That's why you wouldn't let me in!" Pansy gasped, as realization started to settle in. "There's more of them, aren't there?!"

"More?" Cho breathed in excited shock.

"You found _Slytherin's library!_" Pansy continued. "Slytherin's personal_ secret_ library hidden within the Chamber of Secrets itself!" There was a manic look in Pansy's eyes. "You _need_ to let me back in there!"

If this had been the other bibliophile in his life, he would've capitulated immediately. However, this wasn't Hermione. Harry really had to work hard to keep the smile off his face as he softly said the _one_ word he truly loved to say to Slytherins, "No."

"BUT YOU HAVE TO!" Pansy shrieked. "DO YOU KNOW THE THINGS WE COULD LEARN ABOUT THE GREATEST FOUNDER?!"

At those words, Harry's mind drifted back to several of the items he'd seen in the entrance hall of the secret chamber's common room. "Well, he never threw out any of Helga Hufflepuff's presents."

"What?" Cedric asked in a mute tone.

"Yeah," Harry said, glancing at the older boy. "Fluffy yellow badger pillow with a grumpy snake."

"Wait-wait-wait!" Cho chirped up. "Are you saying that Salazar Slytherin has a rug in his _personal library_ made by _Helga Hufflepuff?!_"

"And a nice armchair probably made by Gryffindor," Harry stated. In a quietly amused fashion, Harry found himself quite enjoying the looks of shock on the three's faces. It was certainly better than being shouted and grabbed at.

"Wait…" Cho said slowly as a look of realization dawned on her. "Hidden in the Chamber of Secrets? You actually _found_ the Chamber of Secrets?!"

"The story from two years ago was actually _true?!_" Cedric gasped in shared realization.

"Which stories are we talking about?" Harry asked, honestly curious.

"The ones about you helping Lockhart rescue the Weasley girl," Pansy said.

Harry was silent for three seconds while staring at her as the words percolated through his brain. Then he started chuckling. Then giggling. Then he was having trouble standing from how hard he was laughing. Cedric and Cho wisely started backing away from the manically cackling Gryffindor. Pansy would've joined them, but he was using her for support. Thus, she was very close to him as his laughter echoed into her ear. In fact, she was the only one who could make out the broken words between his laughter. "Hahahahaha! - Help! Pfffft! – Lockhart! – Bwahahahaha!" Once he'd finally managed to start getting himself back under control, he gasped out, "I didn't know – _heheheh!_ – Slytherins could tell jokes!"

"I didn't know Gryffindors could laugh like evil madmen," Pansy countered quietly, feeling still very hesitant to set him off again.

"I'm…guessing by the laughter…that's _not_ what happened?" Cho slowly asked as she and Cedric approached the duo again.

"Haha, _NO!_" Harry snapped out very quickly.

"Sooo, he _didn't_…kill…the giant…basilisk down there?" Pansy asked slowly.

"Nope," Harry shrugged easily. "He was actually already out of commission by the time the rockslide had happened. And, well, he was on one side, I was on the other… Didn't have much choice!"

Pansy just had to take a step back, leaning heavily upon the wall as she tried to collect herself. "So that means…_you_ did it."

"Well, all he needed to do was transform something into a cockerel," Cedric said simply.

Harry looked up at Cedric musingly. "You know, I _still_ don't know that spell."

Everyone was silently for an indeterminant amount of time before Cho finally voiced the question on everyone's mind. "And how did you kill it?"

"I'm not getting out of telling this story, am I?" Harry asked.

"Nope." "No!" "Not a chance, Potter!"

Harry sighed heavily as he glanced about at the various closed doors of the hallway around them. "Let's find a classroom then. It's a long story and I want to sit down."

* * *

**Ten minutes later  
Nearby abandoned classroom**

"—and then I stabbed the diary with the broken fang, destroying Tom's echo and saving Ginny's life." Harry actually smiled at that. He'd been really proud of that moment.

"…How are you still alive?" Pansy asked in confusion.

"Phoenix tears."

"Harry…what is your life?" Cedric whispers in terrified awe.

Harry actually shrugged at that question. "Brief moments of quiet intermixed with extreme moments of danger?"

"I think I need to sit down," Cho couldn't help uttering.

"Dear, you're already sitting down," Cedric pointed out calmly.

"I am? Oh." Cho said, still very deep in dumbfounded incomprehension.

Pansy merely stared at Harry with a calculating look on her face. "Was that the second or third time?"

"Pardon?" Harry asked in confusion.

"You said you were three-time defeater of You-Know-Who," Pansy pointed out. "So, was that the second or the third time?"

"Oh, you remembered that," Harry said, grumbling.

"That's not an answer, Potter," Pansy rebuffed.

"She's not serious, right?" Cedric asked.

"Err…well, actually, that was the third time?" Harry answered uncertainly.

"Oh? And when was the second time?" Pansy asked calmly. The kind of calm one reached after having gone straight hysterical all the way back to calm again. "When you were six?"

"No, it was during our First Year," Harry said blandly. "He was after the Philosopher's Stone they had hidden on the Third-Floor corridor."

"I repeat, Harry," Cedric said. "What is your life?!"

Harry shrugged. "It's mine."

For several long moments, there was a heavy silence in the classroom as each of the students became wrapped up in their own worlds. Cho was concentrating on the horror that her underclassman had gone through. Pansy was debating the merits of following a three-time loser to a small child and whether or not her parents had made the right choice in life. Cedric was trying to wrap his head around the rather quiet and seemingly humble boy who clearly had enough accolades to earn the Order of Merlin First Class five times over.

Finally realizing Harry was _not_ going to volunteer any more information, Cedric latched onto the nearest thing he could steer the conversation towards. "So, about that book…?"

"What about it?" Harry asked back.

"_What about it?!_" both girls repeated incredulously before Pansy shot Cho a slight glare for stealing her words.

Since both girls had gone quiet, Cedric continued, "Harry, you do realize what it is, right?"

Sighing heavily, Harry grumbled out, "It's a book written by _all four_ of the Founders. Yes, I realize how important it is. That's why I brought it along. And it's also mine!"

"And _why_ is it _yours_?" Pansy asked challengingly.

"And why _shouldn't_ it be mine?" Harry shot back. "I was the one who found it in the secret chamber _within_ a secret chamber! Why shouldn't it be mine?"

"Because…" Cho began but trailed off before trying again. "Because it's…it's…written by the Founders! It should be available for everyone!"

"Fiiiiine," Harry groaned out. "I'll give it to Madam Pince…_when I'm done with it!_"

"Nononono!" Pansy cried out.

Everyone turned to stare at her as she flushed slightly in embarrassment. "Why?"

"I mean…" Pansy started out hesitantly. "Slytherin had it hidden away for a _reason_, didn't he?"

"I don't follow," Cedric admitted plainly.

Pansy took a deep, steadying breath before starting her appeal. "Think about it: it was in a hidden chamber in a hidden chamber, that was guarded by an ancient basilisk, and locked away behind several doors only a Parselmouth could open."

'_Well, either the library was or the giant doom vault_,' Harry thought to himself as he remembered the sensation of certain death that lay behind the only door that he _hadn't_ tried to enter.

"She has a good point," Cedric said slowly, almost looking like he was upset about having to disagree with his girlfriend, if his guarded glance towards her was anything to go by.

"You can't be suggesting that knowledge itself is dangerous, are you?" Cho asked, sounding somewhat affronted.

"If it wasn't dangerous, why was it hidden?" Pansy asked back.

"Then we'll do it the _smart way!_" Cho stated with certainty. "We'll decipher it _slowly_."

"Hold on!" Harry chime in, looking somewhat unsettled by what he was hearing. "We?"

"Well, I mean…if you'd let us?" Cho said hesitantly, glancing imploringly at the boy.

If it had been Pansy, Harry would've _delightfully_ reused his most favorite word for Slytherins. Unfortunately, this wasn't Pansy. This was _Cho Chang_. A girl he kinda had a crush on! And she was currently giving him the heart-clenching eyes of a begging puppy. "I…err, I…? I—ahhh?"

"It could be like a group study," Cedric chimed in, trying to support his girlfriend. "Two older students helping two younger ones with their 'homework' should make it go much faster!"

"Alright, fine!" Harry groaned out in defeat. "We'll study it together!"

"Yes!" Pansy jeered victoriously "Thank you so much, Potter! We'll meet back here over the weekend and start pouring over that book…_together!_"

Harry stopped and blinked for a moment as Pansy strutted out of the room, looking far too smug. After a moment, Harry turned and looked over at Cedric and Cho with a look of dawning horror. "Wait, did I just agree to let _PANSY_ help us work on this?!" He stared down at the tome in his hands with a type of existential dread.

"Yes. Yes, you did, Potter," Cedric answered, his voice ringing like a death-knoll to Harry.

"Fuck!" Harry cursed in despair.

* * *

**Gryffindor Common Room**

Hermione sat at a small table in the corner of the Common Room. It was a nice little table that afforded her an excellent view of the Gryffindor House entrance and where she could easily spot the students entering or exiting. It was, therefore, the perfect spot to watch for Harry's return. She had several questions for him. Why did he purposely get into a fight with Malfoy of all people? Where the hell had he gone after he skipped class? Why did he think it was a good idea to skip an important Tournament ceremony, _where failure to attend could cost him his magic?!_ And finally, why the bloody hell did he think it was a good idea _to skip a class at all?!_

Those were just a few of the thoughts and questions that were going through her mind as she _pretended_ to work on her Potions homework. In truth, it had been finished over an hour ago. Leaving it out prevented anyone from sitting near her or asking for her spot. She had been sitting there for the past two hours now and her rear had become quite numb at this point as she waited diligently for Harry's return. As Hermione waited, her thoughts naturally drifted to other topics. Considering who she was waiting for, she couldn't help remembering the conversation she had with Ron earlier that day.

Hermione had seen that Ron hadn't exactly been 'pleased' when Harry's name came out of the Goblet. She'd tried to reason with him. From where she sat, Harry didn't _quite_ go looking for danger. At least, not intentionally, not purposefully… Well, at least, not until danger found him first. After that, Harry tended to be single-minded about throwing himself into the arms of Death. How he escaped it so many times was a wonder to Hermione. Truly, magic was more than an Art form she could learn to cast. It had been magic that kept him alive all these years, despite the dangers he threw himself towards: Voldemort, Voldemort, the Dementors, and _now_ a bloody death game. But, unlike Ron, Hermione actually believed Harry when he said he didn't try to put to get involved. Harry was _far_ too obsessed with his project to want to waste his time gallivanting around, risking his life, for the amusement of others.

Ron, however, wouldn't have any of that. He was far too narrow-minded, obsessed with comparing himself to his brothers, to realize that someone else wasn't actually _seeking_ glory. Harry had no one to prove himself against, aside from the fabled 'Boy-Who-Lived' who Harry didn't even really care about. Ron, however, couldn't believe someone else wouldn't try to make themselves more than what they were before. A tournament to gain gold and glory? They had all watched Fred and George _try_ to enter their names. If it was on _their_ minds, obviously it was on Ron's! Ron simply couldn't conceive a reality that someone would be entered unwillingly. And that really was the crux of the problem. Ron thought Harry had entered for fame and fortune, and Hermione thought trouble was once again finding her friend.

There was a loud crash! Or, more like a slam, really. That startled Hermione out of her own head. The sound had erupted from right in front of her face. A massive leather-bound tome had been deposited, rather violently, over her finished homework and textbook. Looking up, she saw a manic pair of green eyes staring down into her own.

"Hermione! I need your help!" Harry exclaimed. "Can you translate this?!"

* * *

A few moments earlier, Harry was frantically searching for Hermione. He knew she was in the Common Room. He knew because Madam Pomphrey had told him so. Well, after a _brief_ and _very uncomfortable_ conversation! He knew Hermione was there. And right now, he really, _really_ needed her!

He didn't understand a _word_ of the tome in his hand. And obviously the others did! If he showed up at this study session without knowing a thing about this tome in his hands, Parkinson would undoubtedly try to steal it from him! The only person he knew could maybe – _maybe!_ – translate this was Hermione. If she couldn't do it, well, Harry was well and truly buggered! Harry didn't even really register speaking to the Fat Lady. He didn't really even realize the how many steps he'd taken as he ended up in the Common Room and stood before Hermione's table. The only thing that would really stand out in his memory was him slamming the book down on her finished homework.

"Hermione! I need your help!" he pleaded desperately. "Can you translate this?!"

"What?!" Hermione gasped out in confused fright. Her gaze bounced between the tome and Harry's face.

"This!" Harry frantically gestured, jabbing his finger upon the tome's cover. "Can you translate it?!"

Harry watched as Hermione's eyes read over the cover. Because he was watching so carefully, he was able to spot the moment that Hermione realized just what had landed before her. He could see it as her eyes trailed over the title negligently before refocusing for another attempt. Before a startled realization settled over her as her gaze shot back up to Harry's eyes. Hermione started to speak, "_You have –_ _?!_"

Harry's hands instantly shot forward to cover up Hermione's wide mouth, having anticipated this reaction. "Yes, by _all four_ of them! _I know! _Can you translate it?!"

Hermione wasn't even mindful of the hands over her mouth. All she did was lock her eyes back on the tome. Then she began nodding. Well, it wasn't quite nodding. It more…shivering in excitement as she moved her head up and down.

"If I take my hands off you, do you promise to not scream?!" Harry asked lowly. Hermione rolled her eyes quickly before glaring at him pointedly. "Okay, I'm trusting you!"

"Where did you find this?!" Hermione asked the second her lips were free.

"Errr…in a _secret chamber_ we both know of?" Harry offered.

"Harry, what were you doing _down there?!_" Hermione demanded.

"I just…I couldn't be around Snape after…_that_ happened," Harry admitted.

"Okay," Hermione breathed. "But how does that lead to you going back to that chamber?"

"There's no better place to be alone," Harry stated with a careless shrug.

Hermione thought about it for a few moments before replying. "I guess you're right. But how does this – " She gestured pointedly at the tome. "connect with 'privacy'?"

"Well…Slytherin might've had _more_ hidden than we initially thought?"

"Like what?" Hermione challenged.

"Presents from Helga Hufflepuff?" Harry answered hesitantly.

Hermione just stared blandly at Harry. "What else?"

"Slytherin's secret library?" there was now a hesitant smile on his face as he saw her eyes light up momentarily, before darkening again in suspicion.

"And what else?"

"A…Errr…A giant doom vault?"

"What?! Wait… That's not all, is it?"

"Ahhhhh…well, maybe there's just one more thing," Harry said, somewhat coyly.

"Harry!" Hermione growled out, warningly.

"Okay, okay!" Harry admitted with his hands up surrenderingly before he reached down towards his sock. "There's also this." There was an obviously hesitancy in his actions before he finally opened his hand and placed the small glowing sapphire gem upon the book in front of her.

"What is…this?" Hermione asked softly.

"Just…Just touch it," Harry said simply.

Hermione looked up at him suspiciously.

"Look, I know it's crazy. Just touch it!"

"If this turns out to be a joke, Harry, I'll – " Hermione began as she reached forward to grasp the crystal. But she was immediately cut off as her fingers made contact. Her eyes dilated as the waves of magic swept over her from the crystal. "This is…"

"Yeah, I know," Harry said softly before quickly reaching forward and taking his crystal back from her limp grasp.

"Where did you…?"

"In the chamber."

"You didn't say…"

"I _just_ found it," Harry admitted.

"Is this…and that?" she said, gesturing towards the tome.

"Ohhh, there's a _lot_ more," Harry promised with a slight grin on his face.

Hermione wasn't even conscious of her hands grasping tightly upon Harry's own. "_Show me!_"

"Errr…you're the only person I can't say no to," Harry admitted.

"_**GOOD!**_"

* * *

(**Tellemicus' Note**) Heh, that was a fun chapter to write! I hope you all enjoyed the various reactions and surprises that cropped up here due to the numerous revelations that were made!


	4. Riddle of the Founders

**.**

**Jedi Order: The Origins  
**By: Tellemicus Sundance  
Co-Authored by: Fiori75  
_#04 – Riddle of the Founders_

**Friday, November 4, 1994  
4:40pm  
Room of Mysteries**

It was later that same evening. Harry once again found himself inside the hidden rooms he'd discovered, thankfully fully dressed this time. He and Hermione were in the entrance way after having just surfaced from swimming. Hermione had given him an odd look when he'd started to disrobe before rolling her eyes and muttering '_Honestly, it's like you forget you have magic sometimes_' before transfiguring her outfit into a bathing suit. Three seconds later, Hermione finally relented and transfigured Harry's clothing as well.

Thus, in front of the door again, Harry watched with amusement as Hermione flinched in surprise when the magic words flashed to life of the door again. "What does it say?"

Harry just nodded with a confused grin on his face. "I think it's a greeting of some kind."

"You think or you know?" Hermione asked with a pointed look in her face.

"Well, it didn't zap me the first time I opened it," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"You opened the door without knowing if it was dangerous," Hermione said with a deadpan voice.

"Well, I knew that was a ward scheme," Harry said, trying to justify himself. "And I knew it wasn't any more complicated than one that would do this."

"Harry, this is Salazar's secret-_secret_ chamber!" Hermione said. "You don't think it'd be more heavily defended?"

"No, of course not," Harry answered simply. "It was loads better defended."

"You broke the other wards?" Hermione asked, looking surprised.

"No, I killed the giant murder snake above us."

Hermione took a second to think about that. "You're right. That would probably be better than any actual ward."

Harry nodded simply before he stepped forward and opened the door without hesitation. "You're thinking about it too hard if you think there's anything past the giant murder snake."

Harry stepped first into the Common Room, waiting a second for Hermione, once more basking in the homey reflection of the Slytherin Common Room. He waited for Hermione to take in the same first view of the room, as he did earlier. He made sure to pay particular attention to her face every time she noticed one of the odd splashes of color that didn't normally below in a snake's den. She didn't actually make it past the rug though.

"Hang on," Hermione uttered in confusion.

"Yeah, was a bit of a shocker when I saw it too," Harry said. "You should see his bed!"

"I don't think I can…believe this," Hermione said. "You set this up here?"

"Nope," Harry chirped.

"B-But this is Salazar's…"

"I know," Harry agreed. Point to her immediate left, he said, "You are also missing _that_." Hermione stared at the forgotten blue cloak.

Grinning slightly, Harry added, "And if you pay attention to the left breast…"

There, in the same script that was on the book that had drawn them both down here, was Rowena's name. It was in fact embroidered on. "Harry…This – You – realize what this _means?!_"

"That the Founders were a lot closer than the legends make out?" Harry suggested calmly.

"Then…" Hermione breathed out in confusion. "How did history get this wrong?"

Harry just shrugged. "Answers probably down here somewhere."

"So, let's go!" Hermione said, already starting to turn and look for something important.

"Nah-ah-ah-ah!" Harry reached out and caught Hermione's arms before she could move too far away. "Not what we're here for right now."

"What?!" Hermione gasped out, turning on him with an affronted look.

"Anything written down here will be written in the same script as the book," Harry pointed out, causing Hermione's eyes to widen in realization. "We can maybe grab a few more books. But what we're really down here for is _over there!_" He was pointing towards the entrance to the crystal cave.

* * *

**Same day, 5pm  
Ministry of Magic, Fudge's Office**

Minister Cornelius Fudge was mildly happy. It was five o'clock on a Friday and he'd finally managed to finish everything. He'd signed what needed to be signed. He'd shuffled what _didn't_ need to be signed off onto his Undersecretary. He'd itemized his calendar. He'd accepted an invitation for brunch on Sunday with the French Minister, who was still in London for the Triwizard Tournament following the whole 'Fourth Champion' debacle with Harry Potter. Personally, Fudge didn't _care_ had that Hogwarts had two Champions in the running. '_Better odds for England_' had been his thought, if not for all the bloody additional paperwork it'd drummed up.

And finally, he'd checked to be sure that there weren't any more fires to be put out. Or at least none that required his own personal attention. The only one of that sort had been, oh, three or four hours ago? The Unspeakables had wanted to conduct a search of Hogwarts! Something about the leylines flaring in unusual ways. How power surges could lead to…something. He honestly stopped paying attention at that point. Because, regardless of what the Unspeakable could reason his argument towards, there was no way they were going to be getting into the castle. He had waited for the Head Unspeakable to make his case, politely told him 'no', and had moved on with his day.

Now that everything was finished, he could call it quits for the day. As he made his way towards the elevator to reach the Atrium, he started thinking about his plans for the rest of his day. Perhaps he'd take an early supper? It'd been a while since he'd had Italian food. Although, perhaps he should try something French instead. Just to be sure he could stomach it when he had brunch the French Minister. Didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his colleague.

As the doors were sliding open, a hand suddenly jutted forward and blocked his path out. Fudge flinched back in surprise, his eyes going wide in slight fright. But that settled quickly as he recognized the stocky figure of the Head Unspeakable. Though he couldn't see through the spells that protected the Unspeakable's identity, he recognized his body shape easily enough. Especially since he'd had the man in his office a few hours ago. "You again?"

"Minister!" There was a definite note of mania in the man's voice. "There's been another surge detected!"

"Another surge?" Fudge repeated in confusion.

"Like the…" the Unspeakable paused, already seeming to realize that Fudge didn't know what he was talking about. "Like the one from earlier! The leyline power surge under Hogwarts! It's happened again!"

Fudge sighed, already knowing where this was going. "And I take you want to resubmit a request to investigate?"

"Of course, Minister!" the man answered urgently. "With two readings, we already have a pattern forming! _You simply_ _**have to**__ let us go!_"

Fudge sighed heavily before he turned his attention back to the magical researcher. "I already gave you my answer. I said 'no!'. But now, let's make it perfectly clear…_**HELL NO!**_ And not just 'hell no!' but '_**BLOODY HELL NO!**_' Do you realize just what you're asking?!"

"To investigate – "

"To investigate Hogwarts," Fudge interrupted sternly. "_Hogwarts_. A place that has had a charter of _noninterference_ from the Ministry for a _thousand years!_ Not only that, but it is currently in the middle of an _**international**_ tournament which _prohibits_ outside interference. It's not just because it's Hogwarts that you can't go. I don't want you to cause an international incident! We've already had enough of that with the whole Fourth Champion debacle as is! Now, get out of my way!"

"But, Minister – !"

"'But' nothing!" Fudge interrupted again. "Consider this matter over! We can reconsider this when summer rolls around and term is let out. _Then_ you can petition Dumbledore to investigate your silly energy readings." With his piece finally said, he dismissively waltzed past the Unspeakable and out into the Atrium proper, fully intending to head home and not stopping for anyone else.

The Head Unspeakable watched as the fool Minister disappeared into the crowd. Though his face was safely hidden under the enchanted shadows of his hood, there was no mistaking the angry set of his shoulders. '_By summer, it might be too late!_' He turned to head quickly back to the Department of Mysteries. They had to keep a _close_ watch on this situation in case any new developments occurred.

* * *

**Saturday, November 5, 1994  
Outside Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom**

Harry stood outside the lavatory that had changed his life in several ways, the Founders' tome hidden within his school bag safely, as he waited for his three schoolmates to arrive. Harry wasn't pleased to have to show up to this meeting metaphorically empty-handed. Really, all he could bring to this meeting was the book. But at least it did offer a way to read the damn thing. At least, he hoped so! Cho was probably the best bet in that regard. She was a Ravenclaw after all, and year ahead of him to boot.

The real wild card was Parkinson though. He didn't know how much of Old English she understood. And if it was him in her shoes, he would read ahead, memorize, and fake to minimal understanding. He'd also probably take copies directly from the book. So, it'd be wise to keep a close eye on any notes that she took for herself.

This would've been so much easier if he'd had Hermione following him under his Invisibility Cloak. But that would mean admitting to the study session in the first place. He'd already managed to dodge _five_ shouting matches from Hermione. If he dropped the bomb that he was having a study session with Pansy Parkinson, there would be no way he was getting out of there without her yelling at him. And he frankly didn't want to run the risk of having his last remaining friend abandon him too!

"Hey, Harry!" a voice called from nearby, thankfully pulling him away from his dark thoughts.

"You bring the book?" Cho asked as he turned to face her and Cedric.

"Yeah, I…I…I got it, right here," Harry said, trailing off slightly, his eyes widening slightly as he saw Cho and Cedric walking together hand-in-hand. The implication of that instantly hit him hard.

"Um…A-Are you two…together?" he demanded awkwardly.

Cedric paused and thought about it for a moment. Looking down at Cho, a rueful smile crossed his face before he returned his gaze back to Harry. "You know, this does make it seem like a double date, doesn't it?"

"Geh?!" Harry couldn't help twitching violently at the implication. "I am not _dating_ Parkinson!"

"Then what was that about her giving you a show?" Cho asked curiously.

"I, err…" was all Harry could utter as his face flushed red involuntarily.

As the two smiled at his blushing face, Cho started glancing around. "Where is Pansy anyway?"

"I don't know," Harry answered. "I just got here myself."

"You mean you two didn't spend any time together before we got here?" Cedric asked with a wink.

"No!" Harry cried.

"Have you seen if she's in the loo then?" Cho asked.

"I'm not going in there again if I don't have to!" Harry answered pointedly.

"Why is that?" Cedric asked.

"Myrtle's in a mood," Harry replied.

"Have you asked her what's wrong?" Cho asked.

"Been avoiding doing that," Harry admitted.

"Why?"

"I'm not good with girls," he shrugged with the deflection, not quite wanting to admit to the weird situation he was in with Myrtle at the moment. "Not even ghost girls."

"Well, we've got nothing else to do until Pansy arrives, why don't we check and find out?" Cedric suggested.

"She did help you find the Chamber after all," Cho added helpfully.

"Ugh, fine," Harry groaned as he pushed off the wall and moved towards the lavatory. Cho and Cedric followed him inside quietly, eyes open and eager to see the drama unfold.

Myrtle was huffing up a storm. She was floating almost pacingly over her toilet as she grumbled and growled to herself in a depressed and angry voice. But she drew to a halt as soon as she heard a familiar voice. "Hello, Myrtle."

Instantly ethereal eyes locked onto the Potter scion and her cheeks gained a slight silvery coloring to them as she gasped out, "Oh, Harrry! I didn't know you were coming! I'm sorry you caught me in such a right state."

"Was hoping to ask you about that," Harry stated calmly. "What's wrong?"

"Oohhh, you're ever so kind," Myrtle gushed slightly before her expression hardened. "Well, I was contemplating my afterlife after…everything. You _avenging my death_ and everything. When this…rude, _rude_ girl just strutted in here like she owned the place! _Completely ignored_ _me_ when I tried to get her attention. She just…_strutted up_ at that one – " gesturing towards a very specific location within the lavatory " – and then she…hissed at it."

"_Did it open?!_" Harry asked frantically, an alarmed expression crossing his face as he flinched back in surprise.

"Oh yes!" Myrtle growled in anger.

"What House were they in?" Harry almost begged the ghost.

"She was in Slytherin colors," Myrtle stated, a certain level of hatred coloring her tone.

"Argh, this is gonna escalate quickly," Harry grumbled. Turning to Cedric and Cho, he said, "Well, let's go get her."

"Why do you think it's Pansy?" Cho asked.

"Process of elimination," Harry stated blandly. "Plus, she's the only Slytherin who knows _where_ the entrance to the Chamber is."

"But how could she open it? She's not a Parselmouth."

"A question we can ask when we go and get her," Harry stated, already starting to move towards the spot he knew of. Glaring at the familiar hidden door, he hissed out, "_Open!_" while ignoring the flinches that he knew his two companions had given behind him. After the door had opened itself, he unhesitatingly jumped down into the dark hole. Cedric and Cho just stared after him for a long moment before looking at one another.

"Oh, you better hurry along," Myrtle chirped up from behind them. "The door's not going to be open for long."

"Right," Cedric said as he hesitantly moved forward. "Just going to descend into Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber. Nothing to be scared of."

"Right," Cho agreed hesitantly as she moved up beside him. "Harry's already killed the monster…right?"

"Together?" Cedric asked as he held out his hand to his girlfriend.

"Together," Cho agreed, taking his hand. "On three?"

"Sure," Cedric nodded. "Okay…"

"_THREE!_" Myrtle screamed out from directly behind them, having floated there while they were distracted. It didn't help that she'd also pushed her arms into their lower backs. The sudden noise, as well as the jolt of an icy presence passing through their bodies, caused the two students to flinched reflexively away, tipping and falling through the opening with cries of surprise and fear. As they disappeared into the darkness below, Myrtle burst out in helpless giggles at the prank she'd just pulled.

Fourth time into the Chamber, Harry's landing was technically smooth, all things considered. By this point, there was no crushing fear of certain death weighing him down, or a heavy depression causing him to seek out solitude, or a bossy friend dragging him by the ear. Plus, all of the animal carcasses had cleared out from the immediate landing area. Climbing to his feet, he drew his wand and ignited a ball of Lumos to illuminate the hall. Behind him, he could hear the rapidly approaching screams of Cho and Cedric as they drew nearer. Smartly, he moved out of the way just as the duo made their appearance. Their landing was not so smooth.

"Are you two alright?" Harry asked, wanting to but not being sure if he should offer them a helping hand to their feet. His emotions were kind of jumbled at the moment, from seeing Cho and Cedric apparently a couple. The image of them clinging to one another as they slid to a halt only helped reinforce the idea of them as such.

"Yeah, we're…we're fine," Cedric said as he awkwardly pushed himself to his feet.

"Is it always like that when you come down here?" Cho asked, her face still rather pale.

"Only when we're in a hurry," Harry said. "The stairs take time. Sliding's faster."

"There were stairs we could've taken?" Cho asked with a flinty look.

Heedlessly, Harry shrugged as he started heading deeper into the Chamber. After just a moment of smoldering in annoyed anger, the duo started following their young companion down the narrow tunnel. Quickly coming across the next door in their path, Harry glared at it with annoyed anger of his own when he saw that it was still swung open with the inner chamber fully exposed. Sighing heavily, he just marched through the open doorway. Harry quickly spotted the young girl that was on the opposite end of the chamber. She was clearly already in a wetsuit and had her feet literally in the water that would lead down into the hidden room.

"Parkinson!" Harry yelled, his voice echoing almost menacingly off the chamber interior.

Pansy glanced back over her shoulder as the trio entered and approached her. "Potter, took you long enough!"

"How did you get down here?!" Harry demanded.

"I knew the password now," Pansy answered with an almost cocky grin on her face.

"But it takes Parseltongue to get in here!" Harry pointed out angrily.

"True, I don't know quite what I'm saying," Pansy admitted. "But I don't need to know just what I'm saying. Only that I say it the exact same way that you said it." And then, she hissed, "_Open!_"

She was quite smug when she saw the look of comprehension on his face when he understood what she said. And then he glared at her. "I'm watching you! And if you figured out how to get this far, why did you stop here?"

"Obviously, I don't know the password to enter the hidden room."

"Password?" Harry repeated.

"Yes, Potter, I was still in the water when you uttered that password to enter," Pansy said blandly.

Harry took a moment to stare at the girl. "Is that why you were still out there when I was leaving?"

"Of course!" she answered quickly. "I'm not dumb enough to just open a secret door in Slytherin's hidden chamber!"

Harry actually smiled to himself, realizing he could get away with this one thing with this one person. He even realized how he could turn this current situation to his advantage. "And you know what? You _never_ _will_ learn that password!"

"Oh? You'll have to speak it today, you know. This is no place to hold this study session," Pansy smirked.

"I thought you'd say something like that," Harry said. "So, I have a condition."

"Oh? And what condition might that be?"

Harry smirked at her in turn. "Your head has to be underwater when I open that door."

The smirk instantly fell off Pansy's face. "You can't do that! I'll drown!"

"Oh, you're allowed to come up for air!" Harry conceded. "So are Cedric and Cho! But you all have to dive back under the water while I open the door. I'm not opening it if any one of you breaks the surface."

"You clever dick!" Pansy snarled. "And if we don't agree with this, we don't get to see the rest of the inner chambers?"

"That's right!" Harry's smirk was now unabashedly filling up the entirety of his face.

"Shouldn't have revealed my hand so early," Pansy grumbled angrily. "You win this round, Potter."

"Yeah, you really shouldn't have!" Harry chuckled in response.

"So, we get to see the inner chamber then?" Cho asked excitedly, having no qualms about obeying Harry's condition.

"Yup!" Harry chirped, still riding high on his triumph over Pansy. "Although, be warned: we're going for a swim!" He transfigured his clothes into a wetsuit and promptly dove into the water.

The three stared at the ripples as the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared into the depths. "He doesn't leave much time for questions, does he?"

"Or contradictions," Pansy muttered in agreement, before sliding into the water and following after the boy. Cho and Cedric just shared a quick glance with one another before following after the young pair, sparing only moments to transfigure their own clothes.

By the time Pansy had entered back into the entrance hall of the hidden chamber, Harry had already propped open the door and was re-transfiguring his clothes back into place. As Pansy approached, he shot her a cocky grin while holding the door open. "Prepare to be amazed."

"What could possibly be…" she trailed off as she entered the room and spotted the first of many inconsistencies. "_Is that badger trying to cuddle with the snake?!_"

"Looks like it," Harry chirped.

"Why is that even here?" Pansy uttered out in complete befuddlement.

"Probably for the same reason this comfy chair here is," Harry said as he took a seat in a lion-themed chair. This of course drew her attention to the said chair. And then she noticed the forgotten blue cloak that was hanging up nearby.

"B-But this is the Chamber of Secrets!" Pansy uttered. "I know the door had a message for Gryffindor, but this is…This is his _inner sanctum! _Why would he taint it with relics of his detractors?!"

"Maybe they were closer than the history books suggest?" Harry offered blandly as he reached into his bag and extracted the book. "Isn't that what we're here to figure out?"

Pansy was silent in contemplation as she eyed both Potter and the book. "Indeed. That and whatever else is down here. We're in this together, aren't we, Potter?"

"Yeah, the _four_ of us," Harry said, looking over her shoulder towards where Cho and Cedric were standing silently behind her.

"Indeed, the _four_ of us," Pansy said, nodding. "So, shall we get started?"

"Yes, let's!" Cho interjected quickly as she moved past the Slytherin. After just a quick survey of the Common Room, Cho waved her wand and summoned a large chair towards them. Cedric likewise was summoning a table from the corner. The two of them set the furniture down before the chair that Harry was seated in and each took a seat beside one another.

"Where am I sitting?" Pansy asked with a snarky voice.

"Well, your boyfriend's chair is big enough for two," Cedric pointed out, gesturing towards the Gryffindor while looking expectant towards Harry and Pansy.

"I think I'll get my own, thank you," Pansy snapped with a look of disgust on her face.

As Pansy was doing just that, Cho looked excitedly at Harry with almost glittering, "So, Harry, how far have you gotten into the book?"

"Ahhhh…" Harry trailed off, flushing in embarrassment as he started looking everywhere but at his companions. "About that…I, ah…"

"You can't read it, can you?" Pansy asked bluntly, a superior smirk on her face.

"It's not like anything we learn in Hogwarts is written in Old English!" Harry snarked back with glare.

"So, you have no idea what it's about?" Pansy asked.

"It's the secrets of the Founders, what more do I need to know?" Harry bit back.

"Alright, alright! That's enough, lovebirds," Cedric called out placatingly, instantly earning two venomous glares from the younger duo. "We're here to read the book. So, let's read it."

"Alright, you might as well read the first passage, Cho," Harry said, sliding the book across to her.

"Why does _she_ get to read first?" Pansy asked. "And can she even _read_ Old English?"

"She gets to read it because I trust her more than I do you," Harry said bluntly.

"Actually, I'm a decent hand in Old English," Cho said modestly. "A little rusty but it should be enough to get us through this."

Ten minutes later, Cedric and Harry had gotten up from where they were seated and were browsing around the Common Room, inspecting the various knickknacks that were present. Pansy was seated next to Cho, both of them reading over and discussing whatever was written upon the opening page of the book. In front of them was a large measure of parchment and an old quill with colorful rainbow ink that was constantly changing colors as it was used.

Harry would've hovered over them to keep a careful eye on Pansy's notes but with Cedric wandering around, he needed to make sure that the older student wouldn't attempt to open the doom vault. But, thankfully, Cedric also seemed to pick up on the danger of that doorway too. Though, he did seem to be drawn towards the doorway with the crystal cave. Harry wasn't sure if he was ready to share _that_ secret yet. Bad enough he already had to share the secrets of the tome with Pansy!

"Alright, guys!" Cho called out, bringing both boys back to the table. "If we've translated this properly, this first page is a warning."

"Or it's a riddle of some sort," Pansy said.

"There's only one line that suggests that," Cho countered calmly.

"Yes, and it's at the very _end_ of the introduction," Pansy said agreeably. "So, it _has_ to be important."

"So, a warning?" Cedric said. "A warning about what?"

"If we're not strong of mind and body, possessing high wisdom and fortitude to wield magic responsibly, we aren't allowed to learn from this book," Cho stated simply.

"In other words, we've been threatened with a messy doom if we don't proceed carefully," Pansy clarified with an ominous grin.

"Define 'messy doom,'" Harry asked.

"Something about 'rotting of the mind' and 'corruption of the body', you know, the usual stuff," Pansy said blandly.

"But there are no curses on the book," Harry pointed out, confused.

"Noooo, no curses," Pansy said.

"So, the knowledge itself is dangerous?" Cedric asked in confusion.

"No," Cho countered. "It's more like…if we don't use what we learn properly, we could…kill ourselves?"

"This is different from Potions, how?" Harry asked with a slight grin on his face.

"Maybe they were being colorful?" Cedric suggested nervously.

"You think the four greatest witches and wizards of their age would write an introduction warning about death and doom and you think they were just being 'colorful'?" Pansy asked. "I thought Potter was supposed to be the Gryffindor but are you sure you weren't mis-Sorted?"

Cedric couldn't help blushing in embarrassment as Pansy gazed at him in disapproval. "Well, I mean, everyone's trying to make it out to be more dangerous than it really is. I mean, just look at how they describe Quidditch! Well, maybe not Quidditch! But – oh! The Third Floor corridor three years back! Dumbledore kept saying that anyone would die a messy death, but it was only guarded by a three-headed dog! That's not all that bad—"

"And Devil's Snare, and a troll, a murderous keys and chess sets, impassable fires, and a cursed mirror," Harry added simply.

Everyone stopped as they turned back to stare at Harry. "What? You didn't think they were guarding the Philosopher's Stone with _just_ Fluffy, did you?"

"That thing was called 'Fluffy'?" Cho asked in disbelief.

Shrugging, Harry just said, "He belongs to Hagrid."

"Ooooh!" Cho said. "That makes sense!"

"Hang on!" Pansy interjected. "We're getting distracted! You two can be wowed at the events of Potter's life later. Right now, I wanna know what's on the next page!"

"Do you really think we should keep reading?" Cedric asked uncertainly.

"It'd be a crime to stop now!" Cho piped, frowning at Cedric.

"Okay, okay, we'll keep reading!"

"So, other than doom, anything else on that page?" Harry asked.

"The handwriting changed for the last sentence," Cho explained calmly as she shifted the book towards the boys to show them the changed writing style. "I'm thinking this means that the tone of what we're reading will change depending on who wrote it."

"As for the last line," Pansy said. "It basically just said that if we were too stupid to understand the riddle, we shouldn't read it."

"So, what is the riddle then?" Harry asked.

Sliding the book back towards her, Cho recited, "This tome is not going to be for the faint of heart, for you may lose your principles of right and wrong. The knowledge and secrets within may lead to doom for those that don't think responsibly. For without wisdom, the power within will decay your flesh. But to those who are cunning enough to persevere and understand, the secrets of Sorcery are yours, oh students of Hogwarts." Once she finished, Cho set the book back down on the table and looked at the boy.

"Well, that wasn't ominous," Cedric couldn't help quipping.

"I guess that rules out Potter and Diggory," Pansy said calmly, grinning at the boys. "It's obviously not for dunderheads like you. You should just give the book to me, Potter."

Harry ignored that statement as he had a contemplative look on his face. "Hold on…Faint of hearts…Cunning and wisdom…responsibility and perseverance…knowledge… Does this sound like the Sorting Hat's song to anyone else?"

His three all blinked in surprise.

"The Sorting Hat song?" Cho asked in confusion.

"Yeah, like this bit!" Harry said. "Not for the faint of heart and losing your morals. That almost like bravery and chivalry."

"Y-You're stretching, Potter," Pansy said, though sounding very uncertain.

"Am I?" Harry challenged calmly, pointing at another line. "Knowledge and wisdom. What does that sound like?"

"Ravenclaw," Cho answered.

"And here, perseverance that is obviously Hufflepuff," Harry said. "And then there's cunning, and, well… This might come as a shock to you, Pansy, but most Slytherins are _supposed_ to use their brains to piece things together rather than making blind assumptions. And then there's this. It's not referring to someone from any _single_ House, just Hogwarts. I think they want us to be representatives of _all four_ Houses if we're going to read this."

"It can't be that," Pansy said with hesitant disbelief.

"Then why wasn't it written by just one Founder?" Cedric asked, looking at the girl.

For several long moments, all three watched as the Slytherin girl floundered, searching frantically for a counterargument but finding none of substantial weight. Finally, Cho decided to throw the girl a lifeline. She turned back to the boys as she said, "As fun as it is to theorize, we really should get back to translating the rest of this book. That's probably going to take a while."

"Well, no time like the present," Cedric said agreeably.

* * *

**Hogwarts Library**

"You missed lunch," Hermione stated as Harry took a seat across from her. "And you weren't in the kitchens either. I checked. Where were you?"

"Eh, I was exploring the…_secret room_ again," Harry answered quietly, thankful that he was technically telling the truth.

"And did you find anything else down there?"

"Surprisingly, no," Harry said. "Besides, a few odds and ends like something that might've been Gryffindor's letter opener."

"Why would Gryfffindor's letter opener be down there?" Hermione challenged.

"How would I know?" Harry asked, confused. "I just said that it _might've been_ his. All I know is that it was red."

"Harry…" Hermione growled slightly.

"Alright, and it might've had a 'G' on it too," Harry admitted sheepishly. But then he recollected himself as he pulled out a very familiar tome from his bag. "But that's not important right now. This is!" And he proceeded to drop his lightsaber tome on the table.

Hermione stared. First at him, then at the tome, then back at Harry. "You are in an international tournament that is known to _kill_ its competitors. You have discovered secrets of the Founders _lost to history_. And yet the _most important thing_ on your mind is figuring out how to build a lightsaber? …I should have known not to have expected any different."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Harry whined slightly. "What's more important? Rediscovering ancient history or leaving your own mark on it?"

Hermione shot him a very desert-dry look. "By rediscovering ancient history, you have _already_ left your mark on it."

Harry couldn't help but pout. "But it's not _MY mark!_ I'd just be in the post-script! This! This is all me!"

"…Why can't you put this much motivation in your studies?"

"But I am putting my motivation in my studies!" Harry said, grinning widely. "I'm studying for this!"

Sighing heavily in annoyance, Hermione closed her own book and pushed it aside. "Fiiine, Harry, we'll focus on the lightsaber for now. But only because the owl hasn't come in with the Old English to Modern English dictionary yet."

"I knew you'd see things my way!"

"Fine," Hermione groaned. "So, I assume we're still focusing on the power issue, right? Have you gotten ahold of the new batteries yet?"

Hermione was referring to car batteries in this case. They'd already used their somewhat limited supply of double-As. And while they _could_ enhance the energy output of the batteries, the runtime was severely limited to less than ten minutes for six batteries at a time. Harry's current idea was to use the much stronger car batteries, enhance them, shrink them, and then attach them to his lightsaber's power supply.

"Actually," Harry said, looking somewhat hesitant. "I was thinking about trying something else."

Hermione took a few moments to stare at Harry, trying to piece together what he could possibly mean. It only took her a few moments though. "You can't be thinking of using…_that_ for that!" Hermione said, referencing one of their more recent discoveries.

"And why not?" Harry asked. "It's solid magic, Hermione! If anything has the power to create plasma easily, it'll be the crystals."

"So, you think it'd be a good idea to plug an unknown magical artifact that you barely understand into a plasma generator?" Hermione asked bluntly.

"Errr… Yes?" Harry answered sheepishly as he realized just how…foolish the idea could be.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione groaned in exasperation. "If I wasn't here, you'd probably have blown your own hands off by now."

"Eh, at least magic could fix that!" Harry chirped with a knowing grin on his face.

"And you know this how?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Which one of us has had their bones regrown?" Harry shot back quickly, holding up his right arm in demonstration, having already predicted this question.

"Fine," Hermione conceded. "But even if you could fix yourself, that is no reason to blow yourself up regardless. We have to be careful about this, Harry."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"Testing, obviously," Hermione stated

"Obviously," Harry agreed. "But what _kind_ of tests?"

"Hm…" Hermione hummed as she pulled out her own violet crystal, gazing upon it with contemplation. "Well…it feels sort of like my wand."

"So, try casting a spell with it?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Hm…something simple," Hermione said calmly. "Yes, that should work."

Hermione's first inclination was to cast the Levitation spell. But considering just how much more powerful this crystal felt compared to her wand, she wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to cast it in the library. At best, she'd get everyone's attention on them and herself when something wondrous inevitably happened. Very quickly, she realized that they'd have to conduct these tests elsewhere. Standing quickly, she gestured for Harry to follow as she slipped her crystal back into her pocket.

"Unused classroom?" Harry asked.

"Unused classroom," Hermione acknowledged.

The two walked in silence as they left the library and headed for the nearest doorway that they knew was unoccupied. The door was charmed shut, but a simple unlocking charm fixed that. Thankfully, it wasn't one of the walls pretending to a door. Once inside, Harry quickly relocked the door and turned expectantly towards Hermione. "Should you or I?"

"You would try to cast something that would get us all blinded," Hermione stated blandly. "I'll do it."

"Well, you are the responsible one," Harry acknowledged.

"Quite," Hermione agreed.

Digging out her crystal again, she held it snugly but gently in her right hand while already contemplating how she'd have to change her hand motions to take in account of her not using a wand this time. Figuring that a swish-and-flick wouldn't be all that different from between holding a stone and a wand, Hermione began to make the motions. In her mind, she was already reciting the incantation when she suddenly felt a surge of power from her crystal. Immediately, the desk in front of her rocketed towards the ceiling, along with the desks around it, and the chairs behind them, and the old teacher's desk behind them. With a resounding crash, the bundle of furniture smashed into the ceiling. They had moved with such speed and power that Hermione felt that she might've also seen a couple of stone tiles from the floor also join in their ascent.

"Harry?!" Hermione cried out in alarmed delight. "Did you see—?!" She turned around to see a distinct _lack_ of Harry behind her.

"No, Hermione," Harry's voice groaned from above her. "I didn't see it…but I sure _felt_ it."

Hermione could only look upwards to where she could see Harry's form spread-eagled upon the ceiling as he continued muttering, "Testing. Testing: definitely a good idea!" Looking down at the girl, Harry easily saw the considerable distance between the ceiling and floor and painfully asked, "By the way…could you conjure…a couple of cushions…? This is gonna hurt and I don't need Pomphrey to lecture me again."

* * *

(**Author's Note**) Hm... Not entirely where I wanted to end this chapter, but several factors were kinda gunning for it's early conclusion. Chiefly among them is that my good **Fiori75** got into a car accident. Some jackass ran him right off the road and drove away without even trying to see if he was okay! Let's hope he gets better soon so we can continue with this story (and others) again in the near-future.

Now, I've got a question for you all. Which would you prefer we focus our attention on going forward in this story?  
1\. Harry working on his lightsaber?  
2\. Decoding the Founders' book?  
3\. Harry learning Sorcery (whether solo or together with the group)?  
4\. Or some combo of the aforementioned?


End file.
